A New Game (Going to be waiting, Just a little)
by Fullshadow
Summary: Vienna Ivy Walker was never good at asking for help, why would her meeting in forming an unbreakable friendship with Sherlock and John make it different? she is more then meets the eye, and Sherlock knows she has a secret and it frustrates him that he can't figure it out. It quickly turns into a game between them, but it's all fun until someone loses an eye as they say.
1. The Day It Started

Hi Sherlock fans, this is my first Sherlock story, kind of, but this is just Sherlock. Love the show.

Do not own Sherlock just my OC, if I did we would have S5 by now, and more episodes.

The Game Is On.

* * *

_A story is a interesting thing isn't it? How one can simply get lost in a good story, there was just something about stories that can capture people. Why do you think that is? Why does a person enjoy a good story? That is a question without an answer unfortunately, no honestly the answers is up to you, for some stories are an escape from reality or from their lives even for a little while, for others it's just fun to read a good story. But all stories may have one thing in common, which is an every story if you look hard enough there is always some truth in the words that you read on the page, though it might not seem like it, but it's there you just need to know where to look._

_Now I would like to tell you a story, but before I tell you mine you need to know about my friends who I think as my brother's, it's true that they're not my brothers in blood but they are in bond, I'm nothing without them, and even though one of them is reluctant to admit it, but they would be lost without me too. Now I have no idea how the three of us became friends, it just sort of happened. It's strange you know how things just happen without you knowing that they happen. Like one day I was all alone and was thinking that's how it had to be, then before I knew it I wasn't alone and liked it that way._

_Anyway. I was telling you about my friends._

_The first man can be a self-righteous ass and all around a pain in the ass, but underneath all the 'I don't give a damn attitude' is actually really sweet and gentle guy. He may say he don't care but he does in his weird twisted kind of way. Now I'm not gonna lie, he can be a bit difficult to live with at times especially when he's bored, but you'll learn to live with it eventually._

_Though I can live without the weird experiments in the fridge, don't even get me started on that. Just imagine getting up in the morning and going to get some milk for your cereal and seeing a severed head in the fridge, not a pretty sight. And one time I found a foot in the freezer, no lie._

_And yes he can be insensitive in very different and disturbing ways, I mean come on, the guy gets excited when someone's killed. And he maybe addicted to his job, and sure he may be using the job as a means of getting high, but it's better than the alternative, trust me on that. And the guy can make you feel really dumb and small sometimes and I swear he enjoys doing it, there are time's I don't think the guy is human, but all in all his a good guy. He will give you help even if you don't ask for it, but give it he will. Once you make friends with him it's for life. His job is his life, I think he would have lost his mind a long time ago if it wasn't for his job. And yes he has a past, don't we all? He is far from being perfect, we all have flaws, no one is perfect you me or him. Never judge a person for the activities of their past but on what they do in the here and now._

_The second man is completely different from the first and every way, except for one thing the love of the job, he would never tell you that but he does love it as much as I do. He's a doctor and boy at times does he show it. He is almost like the big brother making sure that his little brother is taking care of himself and not shooting the walls with a gun. Or one time he was going to shoot the wall with an arrow, long story, you'll find out about that later. He is a good guy and he keeps the first man right, he keeps me right to if I was being completely honest._

_Yea, okay so maybe he has a temper and at times a very short fuse, and maybe he's a bit slow at times but what he lacks in intelligence, (not my words), he makes up with patients with dealing with our friend. He was a soldier that never completely came home sure, then he may be addicted to danger, but then again you could say the same thing about me. We all are addicted to something. He will be there for you always. It doesn't seem to matter how often me and the first man messes up he's still our friend and still by your side no matter what. To be honest me and the first man would have probably killed each other a long time ago if it wasn't for the glue that holds us together._

_But Sherlock Holmes and Dr John Watson is the best friends I could ever ask for in this life. Sherlock is a ass, but i can honestly say I would be bored if he wasn't in my life. John can be a mother han, but if he wasn't Sherlock would have died from starvation a long time ago. I love them both, and I don't want to think about how my life would be like without Sherlock or John. We complete each other in ways that you can't imagine, Sherlock is like the moon as I am the earth and John is the sun that keeps us us._

_Now that I told you about my friends let me tell you who I am and my story. But first my name is Ivy Walker, and the day I met Sherlock and John was when my true story began._

_Now then, let me tell you my story._

* * *

The heavy rain was pattering down on the streets, and just Sherlock's luck he didn't have a umbrella, unfortunately he and John was soaked in the matter of seconds.

"Damn weather" John murmured.

Sherlock hummed, lost in thought not paying any attention to the cold rain, or his friend.

They had just finished a case, a kidnapping that the kidnapper had placed clues all over London telling where the victim was before the time limit was up and they were killed, Sherlock of course solved it in less than 24 hours. He was a little disappointed if he was being honest, when he took the case he thought it would be a little more challenging, but unfortunately he figured it out too soon and the game ended too quickly. The woman who was kidnapped was returned to her family unharmed and safe, the kidnapper unfortunately jumped off of a building to avoid capture. Now he didn't have any case to solve.

But it seemed too easy. He couldn't shrug off the feeling that he was missing something, something was missing, but what?

'This was all too easy' her thought.

And he didn't want to be bored again. Sherlock almost cringed at the thought of being bored again. God he couldn't stand being bored, it was like torture having nothing to do, it was the most horrible thing that could ever happen to a person, well boredom and death that is, both to him equally horrible.

John huddled trying to stay warm as they walked down the street when someone, a woman, ran into him. She would have fell if he hadn't grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Sorry," she said, taking a step back, making sure that there was distance between them "didn't see you" She had a slight southern accent, American. Her light blue eye's told a story, of what he couldn't say.

"You should look where you're going" said Sherlock.

"Hey, I said I was sorry, you don't have to be rude"

He looked at her. She was nervous, she didn't like being out in the open, she wanted to go as soon as possible. She was an artist of some kind. She recently cut and dyed her hair. What does she have to be nervous about? She seemed to be comfortable being in London, had been living in this country long enough to know her way around, it was just being out in the open that made her restless and nervous, why? She was holding her right hand to her left side underneath her jacket. She was barely wet and it had been pouring for hours. He noted that she was extremely pale and breathing heavy. He could tell the jacket she was wearing wasn't hers it was too big, and the way she was standing with her left side turned away from him clearly she didn't want him to see that she was injured.

"Don't mind him," said John moving around him holding out his hand to her, seeing but not observing as always "he don't know how to be polite"

"Yea, I can see that" She shook his hand smiling, but it was forced.

"It's cold out, want you say you come back with us to our flat and I'll make you a nice warm cup of tea"

"Oh, t- thank you, but I shouldn't" she suede on her feet. But Sherlock was prepared and caught her before she fell to the hard cold ground.

"What happened?" John exclaimed going to check her pulse as Sherlock and the woman slid to the ground.

"Your the doctor" Sherlock moved aside the woman's hand and jacket from the injury. It seemed she had tried taking care of it herself by wrapping towels and duct tape around her middle.

"Shit, she needs a Hospital"

"No! No hospitals!" she hissed "I can't - I can't be-" she looked up at him, eyes surprisingly bright even though she must be in pain "No hospitals"

"John is a doctor" he told her as he scooped her up in his arms and began to carry her brighter Style. She grunted with pain with the movement but didn't protest. She knotted her shaky hands in his jacket.

"I- if you do - this -"

"Don't talk" John said "You okay now"

Either it was exhaustion or from the pain and possibly blood loss she passed out.

oOo

The first thing Ivy noticed is that she was laying on a couch covered with a blanket. The second thing she noticed that her left side was burning. Then the events from the previous night came rushing back. She remembered she got a call from a friend, and even though she should have known better she fell right into the trap. She should have known better not to have any friends or any attachments whatsoever, she was naive and stupid. And it's a mistake that she will not repeat.

Her mouth felt as dry as cotton, her side ached. She knew she should get up and start running but she was too cozy and she really didn't want to get up.

Where was she anyway?

Hissing in pain she reluctantly set up, and looked around. The living room was basic but it had a homey and cozy feel to it. Two armchair sat in front of a fireplace faceing each other. On either side of the fireplace was bookshelves stopped with messy half-heartedly placed books. And was that a stroll on the mantle of the fireplace? The fuck? There was a mirror hanging above the fireplace between the two bookshelves. A desk pushed up against the wall with papers scrolled all over, and an open laptop that sat on the desk.

She could see something reflecting in the mirror on the wall behind her, to get a better look she turned slightly. On the wall above the couch was a smilely face drawn with what looked like to her yellow paint with bullet holes in the wall. Did she even want to know why that's there? And the wallpaper kind of clashed with the rest of the color scheme of the room, but she liked the black and white crazy wallpaper.

She cautiously and slowly got to her feet and walked to the kitchen. So, obviously no one used the kitchen table because there was stuff that she couldn't name all over it. But whatever, not her home.

She went to the fridge and opened it where she just stared at the human hand in the fridge, why the fuck was their a human hand in the fridge? But the bigger question was, who ever lived here don't they eat, or drink? The fridge was basically empty except for the human hand that's in the jar, not going to touch that one, and a bottle of water. Well, okay, that's something.

She took it and opened it and was about to take a drink when the bottle was suddenly snatched out of her hand.

"Trust me you don't want to drink that"

"And why?" she asked turning to face a very tall slim good looking man, his light blue eye's was roaming over her that made her feel self-conscious.

"Because this has acid in it" he said shaking the bottle of water at her.

"Why would you put something with acid in the fridge?"

"It's a experiment"

"And the hand?"

"Also an experiment"

"Right. Okay then. Do you have anything I can drink that won't immediately kill me?"

He opened one of the cupboards and handed her a glass, then replace the acid in the fridge and shut it.

"Oh, my" she allowed her southern accent to slip through "Whatever shall I do with your kindness, you really do know how to treat an injured lady don't ya?"

He just stuffed and stomped back into the living room.

" Jackass" she muttered as she moved to the sink turned on the tap filled the glass and took a long drink.

It was just water but it tasted like life. After she had her fill she put the glass in the sink and turned off the tap, then went back to the other room and sat in the armchair facing the leather one. The Jackass was pacing back and forth, muttering something to himself that she couldn't hear. Yea, why not? Someone decided to help her and they had to be a sociopath.

After a few moment's the other man came down the stairs, when he saw her he immediately started to ask her questions. He then checked her injury and change the bandages.

"You should go to the hospital" he said that must have been the 100th time by now.

"Can't" she said hoping to any higher power that's out there that they won't ask anymore questions.

"Why?" Asked the tall man stopping mumbling to himself and was facing her.

Well, fuck "I just can't, hell, I shouldn't even be here with you" she obviously had said too much because she could have swore she saw the tall men's eye's brighten with curiosity for a moment.

"I'm John" said the shorter man "John Watson. And that's-"

"The name's Sherlock Holmes" he said as he looked at her, his eyes roaming every inch of her.

What the hell? "Ivy Walker"

"Miss Walker, how did you get that severe stab wound?" asked Sherlock.

"Can't tell you"

"Why?" asked John frowning.

"Because I can't"

"Can't or won't" Sherlock said his voice taking a slightly Sharper Edge.

Ivy glared at him "Both"

Sherlock stomped into the kitchen, she followed with some assistance from John. Sherlock was doing something with the telescope thing.

"What is it that you do Sherlock? Cool name by the way"

He looked at her "I'm the world's only consultant Detective" he replied returning to his work "Tell me, what kind of art do you do drawing or painting?"

"Wha- how did you - both"

"You play piano"

"Yes, I do, how-"

"Judging by the graceful movements of your fingers and hands, and the way you place your hand on the table in front of you as if you were about to play. You recently cut and dyed your hair"

She hadn't even realized she put her hand on the table bracing herself. She felt slightly dizzy.

"Okay, how did you know that?" she asked amazed that someone could tell that by Just One Look.

"You keep moving invisible hair a side which means that used to have longer hair than you used to. And your hair has a strong odor of hair dye"

"Wow, fucking cool"

He looked at her "And you have small drops of paint on your shoes, and you have a secret that you don't want anyone to know"

She smiled "I don't know, do I?"

"Yes, and I will figure it out"

"You go on and do that" she allowed her ascent to vanish "I'll let you know if your right"

She felt like the whole room was spinning now.

"You need to lay down" said John, moving her back to the couch.

"Whatever you say Dr. John" she gave him a mark salute before lying down.

She didn't know how it happened, but she fell into a restful sleep, somehow feeling like she was safe for the first time in years.


	2. Here We Go

Hey fellow Sherlock fans and my lovely readers and follower. Thank you so much for following this story. I'm thinking about turning this story into a series but I'm not sure. See how it goes.

Sherlock is saying this is dull. Nothing makes him happy except a good murder, you'll see in the next chapter

SH: I'm so happy you like it. Thank you for reading and taking the time to review.

The Game Is On.

* * *

What the fuck was up with the voices? Two she recognized as Sherlock and John, the third she never heard before. It sounded like the third-party and Sherlock was in a heated discussion about something.

"Because Sherlock, you have no say" said the third man as sharp as a whip.

"Oh, like you could make me!" Sherlock snapped.

After a moment she heard the door slam.

"Sherlock," said John "maybe we should-"

"No!"

"But he could help"

"We don't need him"

Groaning, Ivy opened her eye's. It took her a moment for her to remember where she was, even though she still had noe idea where exactly where she was. She remembered Sherlock and John, and that they took her home and John took care of her wound. Her head felt groggy. Then she realized that she was no longer in her clothing, she was wearing a long t-shirt, but faithfully she still had her black jeans, but they weren't hers she noted. But at the moment she didn't care about that. Her side was trying to fucking kill her. It felt has if somebody was torturing her for information and she would give it if she knew what it was. It wasn't just the loud voices that broken her out of her sleep it seemed.

Groaning again, she tried to sit up, but her stitches protested so she gave up. "Guys, can you keep your love making down, injured woman trying to rest here." She turned her head to look at them. "What was all that about?"

John came and helped her sit up, he then checked on the injury and change the bandages as Sherlock went to his violin and began to play. The beautiful music made her forget about her pain for a while, she had always love classical music.

When Ivy saw the angry stab-wound she grimaced. "Now that's gonna leave a scar" she didn't even notice that she was speaking in her southern accent. "But kind of cool you thin'?"

"How do you feel?" asked John when his work was done and she lowered her t-shirt.

"Truth? Like I was stabbed and almost died from blood loss, so there's that. And where am I exactly?"

"221B Baker Street." Sherlock replied still playing his violin.

"Okay, I've got a location, that's good. And who was that?" she asked accepting the pain medication and the glass of water that the doctor handed her.

"My brother" he said dryly

"Oh god, there's two of you?" she exclaimed after swallowing the aspirin handing back the glass of water John gave her.

"Unfortunately"

"Nah, can't be that bad"

Sherlock scoffed. She smiled. Sherlock was a good guy, and she could see right through his little act.

"Ivy, where exactly were you staying?" asked John.

"In a hotel not far from here, why?" her smile faded, Ice settling in the pit of her stomach.

"Well according to Mycroft the hotel you were staying exploded two days ago"

She swallowed "Oh, ain't that a thin.' Was anybody hurt or injured?"

"No," Sherlock said "it was just one room," he stopped playing his violin and pointed the bow at her "that I am guessing was the room you were staying in"

She shrugged "Maybe"

Ivy didn't want to get these two wonderful men involved in her mess, as soon as she was able she was going to leave. She got too comfortable here, she should have known better.

"Ivy, you should eat something" said John moving to the kitchen, probably going to make something to eat no doubt. Come to think about it she was pretty hungry.

"How long' I've been' out?" she asked.

It was Sherlock who answered "Three days 6 hours and 22 minutes"

"Okay, didn't want the exact minute but thank you. And who was it had dressed me?"

"Mrs Hudson" Sherlock and John said in unison.

As if Just saying the name had summoned her a very nice elderly woman entered the apartment. Ivy instantly took a liking to her.

"How is the patient doing?" She asked as she place the tray of tea on the coffee table.

Ivy smiled taking the cup of tea that was handed to her "Fine. I'm Ivy"

"Hello dear, I'm Mrs Hudson"

"Thank you" she gestured at herself.

"No problem dear. It better me than two men" she said going to the kitchen to help John prepare food.

"Right"

Sherlock just rolled his eyes. "I've said it before, women is not my area" Said Sherlock taking a cup of tea and settling in his chair.

"What is your area then'?" asked Ivy.

Sherlock looked at her as she smiled taking a sip of her tea. It was good, she would prefer coffee though, but there was no way in hell she was going to be rude to the nice lady.

"What? Never been' asked that bluntly before?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes "I'm married to my work"

"Right, and im a unicorn dancin' on a rainbow. Come on, your sayin' you don't want love?"

"How about you?"

"Im askin' about you"

"Love is-"

"..Not your area" she finished.

"Why are you on the run?" he asked suddenly changing the subject.

She stiffened "I have my reasons"

"Yes, you do"

"Still tryin' to figure out my secret?"

"I already have"

"Oh, you have a theory?"

"I have two"

"Oh, do tell"

"No"

"Why?"

"You are on the run from something that you have done. But whatever it is you don't regret it. You dyed your hair from blond to Black, and even went as far as getting contacts to change the color of your eyes. Your eyes are a bright blue not a dark brown"

"You can be kind of scary you know that?"

"So I've been told" he sighed.

Okay, so clearly she needed to get out of here as soon as possible before this man figures out about her past and secret.

"Someone you thought you could trust did that to you" said Sherlock.

"Yea," why lie? This man probably would see right through it anyway "I was naive to think that she cared for me. That's all im gonna tell you. How do you know that my natural hair color is blond?"

"It's well known if somebody goes on the run if they have light colored hair they dye it a darker color"

"And my eye's?"

"The light reflex off contacts differently"

"Yap, you really are a psychopath ant ya?"

He looked at her insulted "No, I'm a high-functioning sociopath"

"How does that make it any better?"

"It does"

They fell silent when John and Mrs Hudson came carrying two plates of scrambled eggs and sausage, one for her, and one for Sherlock. He grimmest but took it anyway at the cold look his friend shot him.

...

The next few days was incredibly frustrating for Ivy. John insisted of her not moving around too much in fear of opening her stitches, and even as far as threatening to take her to the clinic where he worked. John said her injury was healing nicely and there was no sign of infection. Sherlock was going around complaining that he was bored and had nothing to do that made her want to strangle him. He did however had a few cases which resulted having the apartment all to herself for a few hours. It was bless.

But her just sitting on the couch doing nothing was starting to drive her nuts. Sure, she could go take showers and go to the bathroom, but most of the time she was forced to sit on the couch and do nothing. The more time she stayed here the more possible that these two wonderful men was in danger. So to distract herself from the worry and her boredom she started to find cases for Sherlock and John. She would also answer the phone when they weren't home. She was surprisingly having fun finding cases for them, if Sherlock found them worth his time that is. But it was still fun. Maybe when she was finally released she could go out on a few, but then she remembered that she had to go.

Mrs Hudson gave her some clothes that she said she went out and got her. She really was a nice woman. She would often keep Ivy company when Sherlock and John wasn't home. She learned quite a few of interesting stories about Sherlock. And she would read John's blog when her boredom was too strong to ignore. It proved to be quite interesting indeed.

Ivy was starting to get restless, she needed to go as far away from here as possible. Maybe she should try and live in a cave in the Amazon somewhere. But found herself not wanting to leave. She liked John and Sherlock, yea, Sherlock could be a fucking ass playing his goddamn violin at 5:30 in the morning, and the things in the fridge that she doesn't even want to think about, but she liked having someone to talk to other than herself or the walls. But if she did stay would John Sherlock and Mrs Hudson would they be safe from Tom?

Before she knew it had been a week. Sherlock's brother would come back sometimes, to try to get him to take the exploding Hotel case, but Sherlock would say no every time. She was starting to wonder if it was because his brother wanted him to take on the case.

Brother's.

...

"It's been a fuckin' week! I'm so sick and tired of sittin' on the couch and lookin' pretty!" She said as Sherlock and John was heading out on another case that she found them.

They both stopped.

"But Ivy-"

"If your coming then come" said Sherlock cutting John off walking out of the door.

"Alright Then' " she said smiling as she grabbed her jacket following the two men out the door.

She knew she should go, her injury was better and she could move, but she didn't want to.

'Just one more week' she thought as she got into the cab with John and Sherlock sitting between them. 'One more and i'll leave'

What she and John didn't notice was that they were being followed. But Sherlock did, he notices everything.


	3. Some Sort Of Mystery

Hey Sherlock fans my awesome amazing followers and my amazing readers. All the thanks goes out to you for following this story, thank you.

Now please keep in mind that this is my very first time doing a murder mystery crime Story, I hope that I'm doing okay with it.I wanted to expand my writing a bit and try new things, My mom Dad and Sherlock just sort of gave me the courage to try. Thank you mom dad and Mr Holmes.

Sherlock was still complaining that the story was boring so I made it more interesting.

The Game Is On.

* * *

The woman was young, far too young for her life to come to a tragic end. This wasn't her first time seeing something like this, but even so it still made her sad when she thought this woman had someone who loved her, but now her unseeing eye's looked up at the ceiling of the kitchen as she lay there on her back. The woman was wearing just a t-shirt, so maybe she just got up not that long ago? Not that she would know, but that didn't seem right. She remembered one of the other police officers on the scene saying she was found an hour ago, but the poor woman had been dead no more then a day. This woman was alive and well a day ago, but now she was gone, a life that had been tragically cut short before her time.

The woman was shot in the head. It reminded Ivy things that she would rather not think about.

Sherlock went to work looking over the body with way too much excitement for her taste. But then again, she read about him so she wasn't too surprised. And from what John and Mrs Hudson had told her when he got excited about a case he would stop at nothing to solve it. To her that sounded like he cared more than he lets on or what people notice, Sherlock may care deeper then people think. Don't know why she felt that way, that's just what her gut was telling her about the guy, and 99% of the time her gut was always right. Then she thought back a week ago. So okay, maybe not always right, but most of the time, maybe 97%?

"Got any ideas?" asked the officer, Lestrade, if memory serves her right, coming in the room watching Sherlock closely.

"Nine," said Sherlock as he stood and looked around the kitchen. "Maybe five" he walked out of the kitchen, Ivy John and Lestrade followed him to the bathroom. "One"

"I don't get it" said Ivy frowning.

"Look around," said Sherlock "what's missing?"

Her John and Lestrade glanced around the room. It was small with the normal stuff that one would find in a bathroom.

"I don't know" she said.

"No women shampoo, or makeup or perfume, not even lotion or face cream or a woman's brush. If a woman had lived here you would find the items I named off." he said it as if it was the most obvious thing.

"I don't have makeup or perfume, it all exploded remember?"

He rolled his eye's "You do. Your Jasmine perfume seems to be your favorite, you recently went out and purchased some, as well as several other items. And though you don't wear makeup all that often, but you-"

"Okay," she said cutting him off before he name off the color of her underwear that she decided to wear today, that she had no doubt in her mind that he could do if he wanted to "fine, I do. So?"

"Do you see anything like that here?"

"No, no I don't. And by the way, you can be kind of creepy"

"So, your saying she didn't life here?" asked John.

"Obviously"

Sherlock then moved to the bedroom the three of them followed. Sherlock opened the closet revealing men's clothing, but no sign of women's Ivy noted.

"Maybe she decided to spend the night with her lover" John suggested.

"No" Sherlock said looking through the dresser drawers now. "There was only one toothbrush in the bathroom. What kind of woman would spend the night without perfume clothes or her toothbrush?"

"No woman would." Ivy said also looking through the dresser drawers, though she had no idea what Sherlock was looking for. "A woman would at least have a change of clothes some perfume maybe some makeup and her deodorant."

"Exactly" Sherlock went to the unmade bed, looking through the blankets as he spoke "And she wasn't killed here, she was killed somewhere else and placed in the kitchen."

"Why would someone do that?" asked John as Ivy came to stand next to him "If she didn't live here or spending the night with her lover where did she come from and who is she?"

Sherlock was now on the floor looking underneath the bed and the nightstand.

"Sherlock, what are you doin'?" asked Ivy.

"Looking for this" he declared getting to his feet, holding a gun.

Ivy frowned "If she wasn't killed here, why is the murder weapon here then'?"

"It's simple," Sherlock handed the gun to Lestrade, who took it and put it in an evidence bag "the man who lives here has been set up."

"Why?" she asked.

"The woman was having an affair with this man," he said quickly "but they were very clever, but not clever enough it seemed. She never stayed the night, but they would probably meet at hotels and other places. The woman was married. Her wedding ring was still on her finger which means that her lover knew about the marriage. Look at the husband it's more likely that he found out about the affair and killed the woman to set up her lover as her murderer. But the lack of blood in the kitchen, and various items that women would normally have with them are not here. Her clothing deodorant toothbrush and her purse are missing, what woman would leave her purse or at least her wallet behind? She wasn't killed here, and by her state of dress she was at home when she was killed then was moved here, which means her husband had been following her, or at least her lover." He looked at the officer "Who was it that found the body?"

"Um, the man who lives here"

"We need to talk to him" And not waiting for permission he scrolled out of the room, leaving Ivy stunned for a moment.

"He noticed all that" she murmured as she followed John and Sherlock.

She found them outside already questioning the man who lives here. She joined them.

The man was good looking with shockingly green eyes. Someone who couldn't read people like Sherlock could tell that the man was upset.

"What was your relations with the diseased?" asked Sherlock obviously abandoning patience and going right into it.

"Sherlock!" Ivy and John scolded in unison.

"Um, Mai was - my - I loved her" his voice trembled "Who would - why would anyone do that to her?"

"How long have you been having an affair with Mai?" asked John.

"We - a week, she was leaving her husband. I had.. I've been away on a business meeting. Her husband was abusive, and I told her not to tell him that she was leaving him without me. But my Mai is- was impatient"

"Thank you for your time" said Ivy "And I'm sorry for your loss"

With that the three walked way and got a cab. They talked about the case that they just solved all the way back to 221B. Ivy couldn't get the image of the woman laying dead on the kitchen with a bullet in the middle of her forehead out of her head. Seeing that brought back a unwanted memory.

Once in the apartment Sherlock grabbed his violin and began to play in front of the window, as John went to the open laptop. Ivy stood there by John's chair, thinking. Could she tell John and Sherlock about her, what would they do if they found out the truth about her and who her family was? John was a soldier that had a thirst for danger, Sherlock was an addict that was using cases as a sort of getting high, so surely they wouldn't judge her? She wanted to tell them and she wanted to trust someone again, but how many times can a person trust who had been betrayed again and again learn how to trust again? And to her it seems like if she told them the truth she was asking for their help, and she would never ask for help as long as she lives. She had been running for her life since she was 14 years old, so she needed no help.

Ivy was no stranger to heartache and betrayal, she had trusted and then hurt in the end, who is to say that now would be any different. But she wanted to trust, and hell, love again, but she was afraid to, last person she loved and trusted was killed because she loved them, could she do that again? Could she just stand there and watch someone that she cared about being shot in the head and her doing nothing about it? she told herself again and again that she was only 14 and she was afraid and she could do nothing, but that still doesn't Erase Away the guilt that she felt, how could it be washed away? She could have done something, but she just stood there and let it happen, she couldn't do that again, but why then can't she walk away this time?

But Sherlock was going to figure it out sooner or later, but until then she'll keep her past and her Secret Under lock and key.

"So," said Ivy plopping in John's chair "that case was solved quickly. To be completely honest I'm kind of disappointed"

Sherlock stopped playing his violin and turned to her "You were hoping that it was longer?"

"Yea, I was. I've been thinkin' maybe I'll stay around for awhile"

"Knew you would" Sherlock flashed her a small smile before resuming playing his violin.

After a little while the good doctor checked her injury to see how it was doing. It was healing nicely. For the rest of the evening Sherlock played his violin as she read one of the several books on the messy shelves. John had a shift at the clinic, so it was just her and Sherlock alone in the apartment.

She found herself not really reading the book but listening to Sherlock play the violin. It truly was beautiful. And him playing his violin was so much better than going around complaining he was bored, or as John told her shooting the walls full of bullet holes. At least she knew the story of the smiley-face that was spray painted on the wall now. Mrs Hudson also told her about the time she was held at gunpoint and hit in the face, and how Sherlock through the culprit out of the window, apparently more than once, if she was there she would have done the same thing. So, she knew a lot about him but all that he knew of her was her name. But it was better that way.

Ivy had been alone for so long that she forgotten how good it felt to have company, true her or Sherlock don't talk a lot, but his and John's presence was plenty enough for her. It was nice but it also made an icy of fear settle in the pit of her stomach. She had been down this road once before, and that didn't end well. She knew that she should leave and get far away from them as possible, but at the same time she found herself unable to walk away this time.

Maybe she was tired of running from her past, perhaps it was time to stop running and finally stand her ground, maybe it was time to face the darkness of her past. The Shadows of the past always caught up to her anyway, so why not face it on her own terms? If Tom wanted to find her he could anywhere she went anyway. But that doesn't mean that she's going to make a Target out of herself, she wanted to keep Sherlock John and Mrs Hudson safe as possible. But could she do that without telling them, or would that put them in more danger?

"Your thinking" said Sherlock suddenly breaking her out of her own thoughts.

"I was"

"You were chewing on your nails staring into space, it's something you do when you're thinking especially when you are thinking about your past"

"Again, creepy"

He stopped playing and placed the violin down on the desk turning to her "You have come to a decision"

She smirked "Have I?"

He studied her for a moment "The person who stabbed you was someone you thought you could trust, someone you thought cared about you, and the way you said it with such tenderness, was she your lover?"

She sighed "Don't know, maybe"

"You prefer women as your sexual partners"

"And you prefer men right?" she learned during this last week if she turned the question around on him he would get flustered and give up and stop asking her question's. "Which is okay by the way" she added.

"I know it's alright"

She raised her eyebrows surprised "Wow, I didn't think you would actually say it. Fuck, you're blunt as hell. Im gonna assume that means you do?"

"Why would I be ashamed? Are you?"

"Not at all. It's just something that I don't want to talk about, I've said it before that I was naive, didn't realize that May was working for-" she stopped herself realizing what the detective was doing. "Nice try genius"

Sherlock was going to say something when the phone started to ring. Sighing, Ivy dog-eared the paige she was reading and went to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey," John's voice came across the line "I just got a text from Lestrade, there had been another murder"

"Oh, do tell"

"Mai's husband was found dead, apparently he was dead two weeks before the body was found in his car"

"Huh, if he was found dead and apparently he's been dead for two weeks then he couldn't have murdered his wife and placed her in her lovers kitchen then" she turned to Sherlock, who was watching her intensely. She could tell that he was getting excited.

"Tell Sherlock" said John

"Oh, dear Watson, he already knows"


	4. Mei Summer

Hey Sherlock fans and to my lovely awesome amazing followers and readers, all the thanks goes out to you for following this story. And for those who celebrate the holiday Happy Thanksgiving to all. John said this is good, but Sherlock don't like it, but I do.

Sherlock: It's dull.

Me: It's not to me.

Sherlock: It's because your mind is barely used.

Me: Rude.

Ivy: Sherlock, stop being a Jackass.

Sherlock rolling his eyes as he leaves the room. XD

SH: Hell no I don't mind you asking questions, I like it when I'm asked questions, do ask away, ask anything you like. I have a lot of favorite part's but I just love the parts that Sherlock is bored, he's just so funny when his bored, and I love it when John and Sherlock got drunk, 'Sherlock, curling for looks' had me laughing on the floor and my ass off. And my favorite lines are 'Pity, We could have split the fee, Think it through next time.' 'Anderson, don't talk out loud, You lower the IQ of the whole street." And my on 1 favorite is 'I'm not a psychopath, I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research.' though, I think that's everyone's. As for Sherlock and Ivy being gay, Ivy is yes, as for Sherlock I think he's more on the bi side, I think he would be with anyone that he would like be it a man or a woman. I think he was bi in the show, soo, but that's me, that's just how I see it, if you go by what he said to John in the first episode when John said ' which is fine by the way' and Sherlock says 'I know it's fine' then he thanked him for being okay with it, so he may not be but he may, it's Sherlock so who knows? I do hope I answered your questions to my fullest. Thank you for taking the time to read and to review. :)

The Game Is On.

* * *

"So," said Ivy after Sherlock looked over the body "do you have any idea's?"

"A few."

Ivy raised her eyebrows in surprise. "A few?"

He looked at her "Why?"

She shrugged "Just sayin' you seem to always have more then' just a 'few' don't ya?"

He rolled his eye's. John was normally the one that would come long with him, but Ivy was there and she wasn't taking no for an answer. "This man wasn't murdered"

Ivy frowned as Molly asked "How do you know?"

"There are carbon monoxide poisoning around his lips and fingertips, and there was a picture of him and his deceased wife laying in the floorboard of the car along with a note. This man was depressed because his wife was going to leave him and he knew it and he couldn't live without her.."

"So he took his own life" Ivy finished.

"Yes," said Molly "and Mr Bloom took a whole bottle of sleeping pills"

"Wow, the guy wanted to make sure of his death didn't he, just a bit over kill you think?" sighed Ivy "How sad."

"Yes," Molly agreed "sad."

"But if Mr Bloom was dead for two weeks then' who killed Mrs Bloom?" asked Ivy "Unless this man came back from the dead to kill his wife and frame his wife's lover for her murder."

"Don't be ridiculous Ivy" Sherlock said rolling his eye's.

"Hey, you never know, that may have happened"

Sherlock looked at Ivy. She seemed to be comfortable around dead bodies as if it wasn't the first time her seeing them, though she was slightly uncomfortable seeing the way Mrs Bloom was killed. The woman had a secret and he knew she had a secret and it was starting to frustrate him that he couldn't figure it out.

He also noticed that she was no longer hiding her southern accent, not around himself or John, which meant she was getting comfortable with them enough not to hide her accent when she was with them. She did however hide her accent when she was out in public, but not with Molly. Ivy must have thought that she could trust her, which proves she is an excellent judge of character, and Ivy does not seem like the type who would trust easily, yet she was starting to trust Sherlock and John with her life but not her secret. She was running from someone dangerous and that was the reason she hit her accent when she was out in public. Ivy's accent was very noticeable, once you hear it you would remember it. It was smooth and Musical. Sherlock could understand why she would hide it when she was in public, which meant whoever is after her and trying to kill her knew her personally, or well enough to know her accent.

She had also stopped wearing her contacts around them as well but not in public. Her eye's are actually a bright blue but at the moment they looked like they were dark brown because of the contacts. Her hair was still black, but was considering changing her hair color again. She was also considering running again but she was torn, she wanted to run to keep them safe, but she wanted to stay.

He looked over the body again. But Ivy had a good point, Mr Bloom was dead long before Mrs Bloom was killed. This was proving to be a very interesting case. Mrs Bloom's lover was lying about something. Why would someone go on a business trip and forget their suitcase and toothbrush at home?

"Thank you Molly" he said strolling from the room.

"Yeah, sure, your welcome Sherlock" Said Molly.

"It was good meeting you Molly" he heard Ivy say as she followed.

They walked outside, Ivy seeming to be deep in thought, if her chewing on her thumb nail was any indication. They got a cab. Sherlock told the cab driver the address.

They rode in silence both resorbed in their own thoughts, Sherlock thinking about the case, Ivy about her past. If Mrs Bloom's lover was the killer he almost Got away with It. But one thing didn't add up however, Mrs Bloom's lover wasn't nervous or scared of being found out, he was genuinely shocked and upset over the woman's death. But then again, perhaps he was a really good actor. But good actor or not people just couldn't help certain things that they did. Like Ivy chewing on her nails when she was deep in thought especially when she was thinking of her past. People had habits that they couldn't control or help.

He thought back. Mrs Bloom's lover wasn't the killer but he did look Shifty for a different reason, like Ivy he acted like there was someone after him. Mrs Bloom was killed a week ago, they met Ivy a week ago. This was about Ivy. Who was after her and why? What did she know?

"Her name was Mei Summer." said Ivy suddenly. "She was my girlfriend"

"She was killed"

"Yes, and I did nothin' about it. Look, if i tell you more you John and Mrs Hudson would be in danger."

Sherlock met her gaze as the cab pulled up to the house. "It makes things more exciting don't you think?" he opened the car door after paying.

Ivy followed as he walked up to the front door and ring the doorbell "Why do you want to know?"

"Who are you running from?"

"Do you think' im goin' tell you that?"

"Oh yes," he turned and stepped closer, looking right into her eye's "I'm thinking you will tell me"

"Do you now?"

"Yes"

"Not thinkin' so"

"You don't like it when I ask you about your passed, and you don't like getting close to people because you're afraid you are going to lose them like you did your girlfriend." he said quickly "You are comfortable around dead bodies and yet you cringed when you saw the way the woman was killed. If I'm not mistaken that is how the mob kills. And you are now telling me about your girlfriend that was killed and that you could do nothing about it, yet you still carry the guilt that you could have done something if you tried."

She tensed "Maybe. Yes."

"Who are you running from?"

Ivy smirked "Now, my darlin' Mr Holmes, you've gotten' this far why would I ruin the game now?"

"You are having fun" he observed.

She grinned more relaxed than she had been earlier "Now whatever gave you that idea?"

"A guess"

"You don't guess"

He ringed the doorbell again, like before there was no answer.

"No one home?" Ivy suggested.

Sherlock tried the door handle, to his surprise the door was unlocked.

"Nan, that's not ominous at all" Ivy remarked as she followed him inside "Oh, yeah, lets go into a house that has a mysterious open door that we got no answer that may or may not have a serial killer in it"

Sherlock rolled his eye's that felt like the hundredth time that day. "You could wait outside"

"And miss the fun of a possible arrest of a serial killer? I'll pass by waiting outside"

They moved to the living room where they found Mrs Bloom's lover dead on the floor laying in the pool of his own blood. It looked as if the man take his own life, but it didn't seem right. It was all wrong.

"Well," said Ivy "im not thinkin' he's the killer"

"No he was not"

"No. But who is?"

"Good question. Look at his hand"

"Okay, what about it?"

"The man was righthanded, but the gun is in his left hand. And where is the suicide note? There is always a note of some kind, a note a call a video, whatever, but there is always something. Oh this one is interesting. This has nothing to do with you, oh no. This is something."

"Sherlock, mind lettin' me into your big' brain and explain it to the little person' here?"

"This is a serial killer practicing"

"Oh, lovely. Love that thought"

"They are new at this which means that it's more likely that they will make a mistake"

"But it's not like we can' wait for a mistake"

"Oh, they have made a mistake." he said leaving the house pulling his phone out of his pocket and sending a text to John as he did with Ivy close behind.


	5. From The Shadows

Hey there my lovely readers my amazing awesome followers and Sherlock fans. As always all thanks goes out to you. Sherlock liked this one, but Ivy and John didn't, but I do.

Sherlock: Well, at least this chapter scenes more interesting.

Me: Don't you have something to go and do?

Sherlock: No,

Me: Oh, good. So you decided to come and bother me then?

Sherlock: Yes.

Me: Good, must be my lucky day. XD

The game is on Sherlock fans.

* * *

Back at 221B Sherlock was playing his violin, John was on his laptop typing away, as Ivy was thinking on what they know so far. They have three people dead, two supposed suicides and one murder. The case's was obviously connected by one victim, May Bloom. But Ivy had no theories on who could have done it. Sherlock Holmes was supposed to be the greatest detective ever, if anyone could figure out this puzzling case it was Sherlock. She's read John's blog and all about their past case's. Though, she doesn't think Sherlock or John knew that. But it's Sherlock, so who the fuck knows.

Ivy wondered if this was one of his difficult cases he ever had, she thought about asking him but he seemed to be deep in thought as he played his violin, she remembered John saying that's how he thinks, so she chose to leave him alone and ask her question at another time.

Ivy was getting incredibly irritated. They were missing something, but what? She thought back.

May was found dead by her lover when he came home from his business trip, but Sherlock had said his suitcase was still there, and he didn't even take his toothbrush, and yet he was supposedly on a business trip for a week then came home and found his girlfriend dead in the middle of his kitchen? Then May's husband is found dead in his car, he had taken a whole bottle of sleeping pills and died from gas fumes from the car in the garage. Then May's lover was found dead in the middle of his living room. They are missing something important, but what is it? What if Mrs Bloom's Lover had a ex girlfriend or wife that couldn't stand him moving on, found out about Maybe killed her and decided to frame her ex for her murder. Mr Bloom could be a suicide just as Sherlock had said.

"John" said Ivy suddenly.

"Yeah" he looked up from the computer screen.

"What was May's lover's name?"

"Um," he typed a few things on the laptop keyboard. "Joe Matthew." He replied after a few moments.

"Could we maybe research his passed and see if he has any ex's?" she asked.

"Yes, he did"

"Ah!" Sherlock suddenly exclaimed, putting down his violin and bow on the desk and began to Pace in front of them "Oh, yes, good idea Miss Walker. Yes, a ex has all the motive. Stupid, stupid" he said quickly "yes of course. Mr Matthew was acting like someone was after him, he was gone for a week but not on a business trip, he went to discuss terms with his ex-wife, or at least soon to be. He was leaving his wife for Mrs Bloom, but Mrs Matthew's found out about it and couldn't handle it. So she must have paid Mrs Bloom a visit and killed her when things didn't go her way. So she decided to place the dead body in her soon-to-be-ex husbands house hoping that he would be framed by the murder."

"But, Mr Matthew said that he was gone for a week" John pointed out frowning.

"It was a lie obviously. Mrs Bloom was dead for a week because it took the soon-to-be ex-wife that long to figure out the plan. Oh but Mrs Bloom wasn't all innocent. She killed her husband"

"What?" John asked at the same time Ivy asked "How?"

"Mrs Matthew is indeed a serial killer, she obviously has always had the urge to kill, but she managed to fight it off up until this point. Her husband having an affair with a married woman pushed her over the edge. So she killed Mrs bloom, then killed her husband almost as an afterthought" He stopped pacing and turn to them eyes wide "She is going to kill again"

"How do you know that?" Ivy asked.

"Because, she enjoyed it. She didn't have to kill her husband, she wanted to, the lack of evidence was pointing that he killed her, he was supposedly gone for a week, he was actually waiting for her somewhere so she could place the dead body in his kitchen, then when he got tired of waiting he decided to return home to find his mistress dead on the floor. He made up that he went on a business trip for a week because he was protecting his soon-to-be ex-wife."

"But, why would he do that?"

"Love can make someone do strange things" John said glancing quickly at Sherlock, who had his fingers in his thinking pose in front of him as he resumed pacing. Ivy noticed but it seemed that Sherlock didn't.

"Oh, yes" said Sherlock "she is going to kill again, and soon"

"So, what do we do?" asked John.

"Call Lestrade?" Ivy suggested.

"Yeah," said John "good idea" he oh yeah grabbed his phone and typed a number.

Sherlock stopped again and turned to them. "Let's go"

"What? Where to?" Ivy asked as her and John got to they're feet and moving to the door following Sherlock grabbing their coats on the way.

"We are going to see Mrs Matthew"

"Oh, sure, let's go visit a serial killer and ask how she's doin' " Ivy grumbled sarcastically as the cab pulled up to the curve. Sherlock opened the door and got in, followed by Ivy and John. She was sitting between the two men. When Sherlock told the driver the address and when they began to pull away, she looked at him. "So, I take it you already knew who the killer was" it was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, of course, Mrs Matthew was always a possibility"

"Right, so, if you knew who the killer was why didn't you say it before?"

"Don't ask" John said "You don't want to know"

"I'll take your word for it"

"I knew it was Mrs Matthew when we talked to her husband," said Sherlock quickly "he kept looking around as if he was running from someone, he knew his wife was the one who killed his lover, yet he didn't say it, why?"

"Love?" she asked.

Sherlock scoffed "Love, dull"

"Right, but you love" He looked at her as if she insulted him. "You love Sherlock, you love Mrs Hudson and John, I have eyes, and I see how deeply you care."

He didn't say anything, just looked out the window. Ivy was expecting him to say something of some kind, but it didn't come. She looked at John. He was looking at his friend. Did she miss something? Did she say something wrong? She looked back to Sherlock. Yeah, okay, she could tell that he didn't like getting close, but he was close to John and Mrs Hudson, so what did she say that was so wrong? He was just a man, of course he could feel and had emotions. So why did he take it as a bed thing?

After few moments of unbearable silence they arrive to their destination. Sherlock didn't even so as give them a glance as he left the cab, Ivy followed close behind. She had it.

"Sherlock" she stepped in front of him. "Did I say somethin' wron'?"

He smiled that officially creeped her out "No"

"I did"

He sighed. "Ivy-"

"Fine, I'm sorry that I said you have feelings"

"Okay" he moved around her to the door.

"Sherlock, I was bein' sarcastic" she walked to stand next to him. John joined them after a moment.

"Yes, I know" he knocked on the door.

"What did I say that was wron'?" she asked.

"Oh my god" John muttered.

"Feeling is nothing but a distraction" said Sherlock.

"But you feel, your just a man" she insisted refusing to drop the topic.

"Come on, open the door" John muttered again.

"What good are feelings?" asked Sherlock completely ignoring his friend "Feelings just get in the way"

Ivy opened her mouth to reply when the opening of the door cut her off before she had a chance to say what she was about to say. A really pretty tall petite blonde stood and the opening of the doorway. She didn't seem at all surprised to see random strangers at her doorstep.

"Mrs Matthew, I'm Sher-"

"Yes, I know who you are." she said cutting Sherlock off "And yes, I did it, I killed my two-timing two-faced husband and I don't regret it"

Ivy just stared in shock mouth agape. Sherlock looked disappointed as he turned and walked away.

"Well, that just happened" said Ivy as she and John followed the pouting man-child as they heard sirens in the distance.

...

When they got back to 221B Sherlock wasn't looking at her. John went out, saying something about food. Sherlock immediately grabbed his violin and started to play pretending that she was nothing but a fly on the wall. Bit over-reaction. But fine, if he wanted to play that way, two can play at that game.

Sighing, she grabbed a random book from the messy bookshelf (seriously what the hell?!) and settled in Sherlock's chair. And that's how John found them when he returned with Pizza, Sherlock playing his violin as Ivy was pretending to read a book about something about science that she couldn't care less about. Seriously the book was boring as hell, the next time she couldn't sleep maybe she should read this book.

"Food" John declared moving to the kitchen.

"Not hungry" Sherlock said.

"Well I am" Ivy said putting the book on the arm of the chair and jumping to her feet. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a slice of cheese pizza and took a bite. It wasn't as good as New York's pizza, but it was pretty good. "I love pineapple on pizza" she declared causing both men to look at her, Sherlock even stop playing his violin to look at her. "What?"

"Nothing," said John "next time I'll make sure it has pineapple on it for you"

"Oh, thank you, your sweet"

"John, Ivy are interested in women, stop embarrassing yourself" said Sherlock coming to take a piece of cheese pizza and taking a bite.

"Oh, thanks Sherlock for outin' me"

"Thought you were okay with your sexual education" said Sherlock.

She sighed "I am, that doesn't mean that I want you to put out a flat to everyone that I prefer women, some things in life is private"

"I'm sorry?" Asked John "What?"

"I like woman John" Ivy said.

"Oh, okay. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"I did, she was killed"

"Oh, I'm sorry"

She smiled sadly "It happened along time ago. Mai, she was trying to protect me. She literally took the bullet for me. I was 14, that's when I started to run and I've been running ever since."

There was a long awkward Moment. Ivy expected them to ask more questions especially Sherlock, but all Sherlock did was handed her a glass of water. That was all, but it felt in his own weird way he was apologizing, and saying that she had a place here with them. It was just a glass of water but the gesture meant everything, and she read it loud and clear. She accepted it and gave him a gracious smile. She felt so comfortable and at ease with these two men, it was strange, but it was a nice strange. They didn't have to say a word, she was grateful that they didn't.

"Sherlock and you seem to be okay now" John said also serving himself a piece of pizza breaking the awkwardness.

Ivy actually forgot that she was mad at all. "What is he talkin' about Sherlie?" she asked Sherlock after taking a another large bite of her Pizza.

"Have no idea"

They looked at each other and then burst into laughing, John looked confused for a moment but then he joined them. Ivy can't remember the last time she felt so alive, or so comfortable with people. She could get used to this feeling.

oOo

"And?" asked the soothe southern accent across the line.

"She hasn't noticed that she's been bein' followed" the man asked who was standing across the street.

"Good, keep it that way until I give you the order"

"Yes sir"

A moment later the phone call ended, and the man stood there across the street like a good dog waiting for his master's permission to do what he was told.


	6. The Name Of The Game

Hi Sherlock fans and my lovely readers and follower's. As always thank you for following this story. Got some news, this story is gonna have a sequel possibly two, I don't know yet, just gonna have to see where Ivy takes me.

Sherlock John and Ivy are out so I have my thoughts to myself at the moment.

SH: No, Sherlock and Ivy will be just friends nothing more. And as for Sherlock and John getting together, I'm not sure yet, it's a possibility later on, if that's what you the readers want, but for as for right now all that the three of them share is friendship but who knows later on. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

The Game Is On.

* * *

A loud persistent annoying thumping on the other side of the wall woke Ivy up and she was not at all happy about it, in fact, she could have happily stabbed someone and not felt bad about it, and she had a perfect person in mind. Only one person came to mind who would be this inconsiderate and incredibly rude.

It was Sunday. Wasn't they supposed to be like, oh she didn't know, able to sleep in? Didn't her and John make that as a rule weeks ago? But then again Sherlock and rules tended not to mix well now did they? Oh Sherlock and rules got along like oil and water. She had half a mind to call his older brother and make him ground him for no more cases for at least a week. But then again Sherlock's boredom would be even worse than this, so she thought better of it.

"Sherlock!" she called as there was another thump on the wall. What the hell was he doing, and did she even want to know? Obvious answer, probably not. "Sherlock! What in the hell are you doin' and why?!"

But another wall-shuddering thump was her only reply.

"Oh my fuckin' god Sherlock! if you don't stop doin' that I am goin' to kill you!"

"Bored!" Sherlock called back. Another thump.

"Don't give a hot fuck! Sleepin'!"

"Clearly not!" Another thump.

"Not anymore" she grumbled.

Sighing, she dragged herself out of her 'bed' a blow up air mattress, muttering under her breath things about the very man who woke her up that wasn't all that pleasant, and who she cursed at in every name she could think of that was in the human language. She padded blearily into the living room from Sherlock's room that her and the only consultant detective was sharing, because she got sick and tired of sleeping on the couch, not that she got any sleep on the couch anyway thanks to Sherlock. The guy was always pacing and keeping her up, seriously does the guy never sleep? She stumbled into the living room to find the one and only Sherlock Holmes slumped on the couch, absently throwing a small rubber ball at the wall.

She groaned then reached over and caught it in mid-arc. Sherlock made a disgusted noise and crossed his arms, slouching further down against the cushions. He closely resembled a pouting child that had a toy taken away from him by his mother.

"Sherlock! The hell!?" John came in from his room. "It's Sunday"

"Bored" said Sherlock.

Ivy rolled her eye's "No way, we couldn't guess that, thank you so much for clearin' that up"

"What about that-"

"A wife cheating on husband waste of my time" Sherlock said cutting John off.

"Then about you go and find an experiment?" Ivy asked dryly as she moved to the kitchen to make coffee, she was already up and she highly doubt it that she could go back to sleep now anyway. "Or play your violin"

"You and John complain when I play my violin early in the morning"

She looked back at him "It's better than you throwin' a ball against the wall"

Sherlock scooted on the couch to lay on his back staring pensively up at the ceiling. She returned to her task of making coffee.

"I'm sure something will turn up" sighed John also moving to the kitchen.

"Can't come too soon" Ivy muttered as she poured the coffee beans in to the coffee machine.

John got started on breakfast. It so strange how they had a routine in the morning, but she didn't mind it. She would make coffee for herself and tea for the boys, John was the one who usually made breakfast as she made dinner, if they weren't working on a case and constantly out that is.

It took a bit for her to get used to being around people, she had been running since she was fourteen years old so she didn't have a lot of people contact. Well, except when she let her guard down. But she was usually by herself in a motel room or abandoned building or even on the streets, wherever it was safe, and now it felt safe here, and it was going on week three, this was the longest time that she could remember that she stayed in a place, and where she felt safe enough to do so. She still doesn't understand it fully herself, but for some unknown reason she felt perfectly safe with Sherlock and John. Even though she wants to kill Sherlock half of the time.

Sherlock jump to his feet stepped on the coffee table and walked over it stomping to the kitchen, stopping directly behind her. She didn't turn around until she was finished with what she was doing. When she did turn around, Sherlock had his handout expectantly. She knew what he wanted.

"No" she said firmly as if she was speaking to a child that was asking if he could have another chocolate chip cookie before dinner.

"The ball"

"No"

"The ball"

"No"

"I'll stop trying to figure out your past"

"Nice try Sherlie, we both know better"

He stamped back to the living room and threw himself with a dramatic flair back on the couch. "I need the ball" he almost whined.

"Oh my fuckin' god, I'm gonna kill him"

"After I do" said John as he cracked a few eggs in a boll and started to mix them before pouring them into the pan.

"No," Sherlock came back the kitchen. "I need a case"

"But didn't you just solve one yesterday?" asked Ivy caught somewhere between exasperated and amused.

"That was yesterday"

"Right, so go look for one"

"Isn't that your job?"

"For the 100th time, no it's not my job"

"It's not like you have one" Sherlock muttered.

"Sorry? Mind runnin' that by me again?"

He looked at her "Your grumpy this morning"

"Oh, my, wonder why that is"

"Why ask me?"

"And why not Sherlie?"

...

After breakfast Ivy went to shower and change as John cleaned up the kitchen while bickering like an old married couple with Sherlock. She swears they are an old married couple, why don't they just get a room already? She really pray to any god that was out there that was listening that Sherlock found a case soon. Ivy was seriously contemplating on pushing him in front of a moving bus as Sherlock knocked on the bathroom door for the 100 billionth time asking her questions that she had no idea how to answer. He finally got the message when she threw a bar soap at the door, he left her alone after that.

Though in reality she would never dream about hurting the guy, he was just a pain in the ass to live with. If she was being honest she liked him, in a very protonic friendship kind of way, but she still liked him. But he was still a pain in the ass. But all in all he wasn't that bad.

Though, she could most definitely do without the weird experiments that he decided to keep in the fridge where food is supposed to be kept. Seriously there was a goddamn severed head in the fridge right at this very moment, she didn't ask why there was a head in the fridge, it's Sherlock, she's sure he had a reason why he was keeping a goddamn severed head in the fridge. What amazed her that John just moved the head of side as he grabbed the eggs and milk for breakfast. Maybe she should seriously think about getting him a mini fridge for his birthday or Christmas, that way he can keep all the weird experiments in his own little mini fridge all he wanted.

Ivy surprised herself that she thought she was going to be here for that long, but who knew? Maybe she was. She loved it right where she was. She liked helping Sherlock and John solve cases, and she loved Mrs Hudson. She liked the life she was making with Sherlock and John, but how long will it be before she had to run again? She knew sooner or later she was going to have to, for the safety of Mrs Hudson John and Sherlock, but for now she felt safe.

When she had returned from her shower and dressing for the day, she found Sherlock playing his violin as John was sitting at the desk throwing cases at him.

"A missing person. She was last seen with her boyfriend" John said. "Her and the boyfriends belongings as well. And no one has seen her or the boyfriend for days."

"They ran away together. Dull" Sherlock replied dryly.

"A robbery of a jewelry store that has no signs of a break in."

"The boss did it"

"How do you know?" he asked.

Ivy set in John's chair, crossing her legs, placing her elbow on her knee and propping her chin in the palm of her hand. "Yeah Sherlie, how do you know that for sure?"

"Who else would know how to do a robbery without any signs of a break-in if it wasn't the boss? Boring and predictable."

"Sherlock, that's all I got" sighed John.

Mrs Hudson knocked on the door, causing Ivy and John to look at her. "Hey Guys, you have a visitor"

"Tell them to go away" Sherlock put his violin down on his chair, and turned to Mrs Hudson. "Whatever they have to say will be dull."

"Sherlie, it won't hurt to hear them out at least."

Sherlock rolled his eye's "Show them in."

After a moment a young man, who introduced himself as Kodi Ross, he looked like he was in his 30s, if Ivy would take a guess, came in the flat and settled in the chair that John had put in the middle of the room facing them. Sherlock sat in his chair John was in his as Ivy sat on the floor between the two chairs. Sherlock's fingers was in his thinking pose, as he just looked at the man. A few awkward moments passed. Ivy about had it.

"So, um, Mr Ross, why are you here?" Ivy asked politely making sure she hit her accent, who knew if this man was working for Tom, it's a risk she's not willing to take.

"I um, I'm being framed for a murder that I did not commit" Said Kodi "I - i-"

"Yes, go on" John encouraged.

"I woke up this morning in my bed covered in blood with out any memory how the blood got there. A dead body of a woman in my living room."

She glanced over at Sherlock. He seemed intrigued, hell, she was.

"So," she looked back at Kodi "you woke up this morning, did you call 911- or whatever it is here?"

"No, I know what it looks like"

"Did you disturb anything before you came here?" asked Sherlock for the first time sense the man walked in and sat down.

"No" said Kodi.

"Right then" Sherlock jumped to his feet grabbing his coat and scarf as he moved out the door.

"Sherlock!" Ivy called also getting to her feet as John did the same. "Where are you going?"

Sherlock came back in the room. "This man clearly did not murder anyone. in less, do you sleepwalk?" he asked the slightly startled man.

"No-"

"Right then. Killing someone is certainly something one will remember. Come on, John Ivy" he called as he started moving out the door again "the game is on"


	7. A New Home

Hi Sherlock fans my amazing and awesome followers and readers, as usual all the thanks goes to you, thank you for joining in with this adventure it is much appreciated. So, I had to redo this chapter because Sherlock was bored and got a hold of my tablet and changed it, though, I did keep some of it.

Me: Glaring over at Sherlock.

Sherlock: rolling his eye's. "It was dull the way you had it."

Me: Go back to your experiment and don't blow up the place.

Sherlock just rolled his eye's.

John: I'm sorry.

Me: It's cool. XD

James Birdsong: Thank you, I'm happy you like it. And thank you so much for taking the time to read and review, it means so much to me that people like my stories.

SH: So glad to hear that, the world's only consultant Detective is not an easy character to write for. And they may end up together, I don't know yet, time well tell. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

The Game Is On.

* * *

The body lay on the living room floor, the blood surrounding him giving the all white room a somewhat eerily look. In fact, the red was almost the only other color than white in the room. It was like drops of rose petals on snow.

Sherlock immediately looked Over the body. Stab wound to the neck, cause of death was more likely from bleeding out, sense the stab Wound wasn't deep enough to kill but deep enough to cause severe bleeding. The man wasn't married, but a slight line of a wedding band once was, had told him more then most people noticed, or even cared to, possibly divorced or the spouse had died. He was in his 30s. Well-groomed which means that he cared about his appearance. Expensive suit, which meant the man was well off, or he had a well-paying job. The man's fingernails was well-groomed as well. His hands had no calluses they were soft, there was ink stains on the fingertips. Whatever this man's job was he dealt with money often. Perhaps he worked at a bank, or a jewelry store?

That certainly could explain why he was well-groomed the expensive suit and that he cared about his appearance. The man had been drinking before his untimely death, his breath still smelled like alcohol, and the blood hasn't dried, the man wasn't killed that long ago. His clothing was still wet, it had just rained early that morning. And the blood was even still semi warm. He would say that he hadn't been dead an hour, 45 no 56 minutes, and Mr Ross's flat wasn't too far.

He looked at Mr Ross who was hovering by the open door taking Great Lengths not to look at the body. He was tense worried and scared. He hadn't been sleeping well, the man has been having bad nightmares it seemed. Interesting. The man Wasn't acting like he just killed a man In Cold Blood, he was genuinely confused and concerned. He was, however extremely nervous almost like he had a secret, that he didn't want Sherlock to figure out. Mr Ross kept glancing toward the desk. What was in the desk he certainly didn't want anyone to know what it was. It was a normal human behavior to look toward an area that something was hidden.

He got to his feet and looked around. The entire flat was neat and clean, so much so it could be considered organized almost to a obsession, everything matched and everything had its rightful place. He moved to the bookshelves that was against the wall near the door. Even the several books was organized by either first letter or author's name, or by color. On the coffee table was two empty whiskey glasses, that could explain the smell of alcohol.

He purposely avoided the desk, instead he went to examine the bookshelf near the desk, as he looked at John who was already looking over the body. Ivy was watching Mr Ross with a deep frown. Apparently she had noticed how nervous the man was as well as he got closer to the desk, interesting.

"John" he said as he moved back to the body, his eye's locked on Mr Ross.

"He was in his 30s, blood out from the stab wound in his neck, been dead not even an hour."

"And look at his hands."

John did "Stains."

"This man dealt with money on a regular basis," said Sherlock quickly "which means he worked in either a jewelry store or a bank" Mr Ross shifted uncomfortably when Sherlock said jewelry store. "The wallet." Sherlock instructed.

Ivy pulled out the wallet from the man's back pocket, not at all bothered about touching or even being near a dead body, and opened it. "His name was Rogers King."

"Wait, that's the owner of the jewelry store that was broken into without any signs of forced entry." John said looking at Ivy then at Sherlock.

"You were right about it being an inside job." said Ivy grinning excitedly. "That's just amazing that the two cases are connected."

"Yes," Sherlock went to the desk and open the drawer, pulling billions of dollars of diamonds out turning and holding it up, glancing at the garbage can noting the man's blood covered clothes, and at the other items on the desk. The blood was dried. "and you were Mr King's partner in crime."

Mr Ross's face paled. "Yes, but I didn't kill him! I woke up this morning covered in blood and found the guy dead on my living room floor."

"Oh, I believe that you didn't kill him," he handed Ivy the diamonds "you are indeed guilty but not guilty of murder."

"I'll Call Lestrade" Ivy already had her phone out and holding it to her ear.

...

In just less than an hour the police swarmed Mr Ross's flat, as Ivy explained to Lestrade what was going on. Sherlock was aware that Lestrade had given Ivy his number. Lestrade would be polite around her and smile at her, the man was clearly flirting, but Ivy's body language said that she wasn't interested, Lestrade took the gentle message. She was no fool, the woman knew when she was being flirted with.

Ivy came over after Lestrade was done talking to her. "They found Mr Ross's bloody clothes in the garbage, their plannin' on doin' DNA testin'."

"It's not going to be Mr King's." said Sherlock.

"Okay, mind clarifyin'?" She asked crossing her arms looking incredibly interested.

"No."

"Sherlock," said John. "just tell us"

He sighed "It's dried."

"So? And?" asked Ivy.

"The blood on the floor isn't dried even though the blood on the clothing has been dried for hours possibly a day or two."

"Oh, so that means if Mr Ross killed him then the blood would still be wet and warm." said John.

"Obviously. Someone indeed is framing Mr Ross, but when he came to us he was almost reluctant to do so, because he and another partner helped Mr King Rob his own store. The blood on the clothing was placed there before Mr King was killed. Mr Ross and Mr king was drugged and that's when the murderer put the game in play."

"How do you know they were drugged?"

"The whiskey glasses on the coffee table, the smell was slightly off."

"Right"

"Why would someone want to frame Mr Ross?" Asked John.

"Mr Ross and Mr king were being blackmailed, I saw the letters on the desk."

"And you figured that out less than 5 minutes" Ivy stated amazed.

Sherlock flashed her a smile "Yes of course I did it wasn't really that hard to do."

"Right."

"Show off" John said causing Ivy to giggle. Sherlock rolled his eye's.

"So, who would want to frame Mr Ross for murder?" asked Ivy.

"The other partner of course," said Sherlock as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"For what, money?"

"Money is a very powerful influence" sighed John, Sherlock shrugged. "Well, for some."

"So, what now?" asked Ivy bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Ivy enjoyed the chase and the excitement Sherlock noted, she would never admit it to him or he highly doubt it even to herself, but she got bored just as he did. Like John she had a thrill for danger and excitement, she couldn't sit for long.

"Now we find out who the other partner is" Sherlock turned and walked out of the flat with John and Ivy right behind him. "Ivy, go talk to Mr Ross and see if you can get the name of the other partner."

"On it." she then ran off to the police car that Mr Ross is being held in.

"John,"

"I'll go with her"

"Right. John, keep eyes peeled she is being followed"

John nodded then went to join Ivy.

Sherlock noticed that Ivy has been being followed for quite some time, he had made a point of calling Mycroft and with some reluctant agreement to solve the Hotel exploding case Mycroft had put surveillance on the people who was following Ivy, as well as 221B John Lestrade and Ivy herself, just to be on the safe side. Ivy was obviously running from someone very dangerous and powerful, so far she had been to several places and countries trying to run from whoever was after her, but tracking her past movements is difficult than he expected it would be, especially since Ivy Walker was not her name, Walker was, but not her first name, but she doesn't act like it's not her name so middle name perhaps.

Sherlock had his suspicions who she was running from, but he was enjoying the little game. And perhaps if she was comfortable enough she would let something slip on her own.

He liked the young woman, oddly enough she fit perfectly with them, a formal Army doctor who needed adventure and danger in his life, a man who uses cases as means of getting high, and a woman who's on the run from the mob, yes they made an interesting Trio indeed.

But she was also very puzzling, she was decent at reading people's body language, quite aware of her surroundings, she wasn't suspicious about it but she watched people closely, especially those who she didn't know very well or at all. She decided to stay even though it's very clear that she was afraid that whoever is after her was going to find her sooner or later, yet in spite of that wrist she had decided to stay. It was more then likeing solving crimes, and the danger and the thrill of it, it seemed that she's decided to no longer run from her past but to face on her terms. She certainly was brave if she was running from who he's expecting she was.

Sherlock left John and Ivy to talk to Mr Ross, Sherlock returned to 221B to find an envelope taped to the door addressed to Ivy.

oOo

"That was just incredibly rude." Ivy exclaimed as she and John got back to 221B finding Sherlock sitting in his chair his fingers in his thinking pose. She stood in front of him placing her hands on her hips. "You couldn't wait for us to get done talkin' to Mr Ross?"

Sherlock hummed "No, I was bored just standing there."

"Right, of course you were." She settled herself on the floor sitting Indian style, placing her elbows on her knees, and resting her face in the palm of her hands.

"You were right," said John sitting in his chair. "the blood found on the clothing wasn't Mr King's."

"Of course I was right " said Sherlock.

Ivy smiled feeling more at home than she ever had before. It was true enough that her actual home that she came from couldn't really be considered a normal home, but being there in 221B, solving murder cases, that was her home, this was her home now, it just felt right, and she highly doubt it if her past comes knocking on the door she would run from this place she thought as home.

"Sherlie, can I ask you somethin'?"

"Could I stop you?" he asked.

"No. Mrs Hanson told me about the fall, was it true or am I just hearing stories from people?"

Sherlock stiffened, John went so still that it felt like she pushed pause on a movie. It was so long without either one of them talking that she began to fear that she said the wrong thing. Why did she have to say anything? From what she heard it was a very emotional time for both Sherlock and John, she just wanted to get to know these men without reading about them, she wanted them to tell her things. That way it would be easier her telling them about her.

That, and she figured whatever the answer was her suspicions would be satisfied. And she was curious if they were just stories or it was actually true. But should have known better.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Yes," Sherlock said cutting her off "what you have been told is true."

"Wow, you really sacrificed almost everything to save and protect those who are closest to you?"

"Yes, yes he did." said John.

Sherlock lowered his hands to his lap. "Ivy, we all have things that we may regret, and I can say with the most sincere and honesty that I don't regret protecting those who are close to me, I do however, regret that I caused them such pain."

"Sherlock," John cleared his throat. "I've forgiven you, you know that, don't you?"

Ivy was amazed that someone would go so far to protect those who they love, sure he might have caused those people pain but it was to protect them. She liked Sherlock all the more.

"I know you have." His eye's locked with John's for a moment, before settling on her. "You also have regrets that you cannot bury." He handed her an envelope that she just now noticed that had been laying in his lap. "But we must not run from them."

With a shaky hand she accepted the envelope, but didn't open it, she knew who it was from.


	8. What If?

Hi there Sherlock fans my amazing and awesome followers and readers. As usual all the thanks goes out to you wonderful people who decided to follow this story. Thank you thank you.

Sherlock John and Ivy are out on a case so I have my thoughts and peace and quiet to myself for a while. Which was a good thing, because Sherlock was driving me nuts looking over my shoulder correcting me, it gets slightly annoying after awhile trust me. XD

SH: HAHA HAHA. Oh, my amazing reader and viewer, all in do time.

The Game Is On.

* * *

The night air was cold as Ivy walked down the streets. Yeah, it was probably a really stupid idea to walk the Streets of London at night when someone is out to kill you, when did she ever claimed that she was a genius? No, Sherlock was the one who held that title. Ivy snuck out of the apartment when Sherlock and John wasn't paying any attention, but she highly doubt it Sherlock didn't notice, the guy notices every god damn thing. She just needed to be by herself for a bit, to think.

Her mind kept going to the unopened envelope she left on the coffee table back at the apartment. She knew exactly who it was from, and she could guess what was inside as well, and she wanted nothing to do with it, in fact she thought about ripping it to Pieces then throwing it into the fireplace. But maybe there was another reason she didn't want to open it, it's because opening it meant opening up her past, and that was something she was trying so hard to move past. But how long could she continue this? More importantly how long did she want to continue to run? She can't run forever, and didn't she already decide to stand her ground? Ivy decided whatever happens she's not leaving London, or 221B, she wanted this place to be her home and God damn it she was going to get what she wanted.

Yes, Sherlock could be unbearable and all around the biggest Jackass anyone ever had the displeasure to meet, but she wouldn't have him any other way. Does he get on her nerves? Yes, does she want to put his head through the wall when he plays his violin at 5:30 in the morning? Hell yes, but Sherlock and John were people who helped her when she needed it, and for reasons that is unknown to her she cannot bring herself to leave.

Ivy sighed, looking up at the night sky.

It was always her dream to come to London, she always felt like the city was calling out to her, almost like it was trying to tell her this is where she belonged. Getting to London was tricky, she of course was a con woman after all, it's amazing of what a lonely man would do for a beautiful young woman that gives him promises that she had no intention of keeping, she never said she was a nice person either. When one is on the run for their life they do what it takes to survive. But she never stooped so low of selling herself for money, that was a new low not even she would lower herself to, even if she was desperate, she had her self-respect. No, she instead turned to tricking people and pickpocketing to survive. So, she was a thief, so what? Sherlock would probably be proud.

Sherlock. She wondered if he figured out that she's a thief yet. How else would someone that's on the run for their life from the mob would get to London?

Ivy expected to stay in London for a week at the most, instead she had stayed three months, why hadn't she moved on? It was strange to say the least. Each time she thought about moving on something always stopped her from doing so. Ivy believed that everything happened for a reason, and for some reason she was meant to meet John and Sherlock, she just hadn't figured out why yet.

Mei. She thought of her often, but not too often because the memories hurt too much. That, and the guilt that she still carried. Ivy was only 14 but she knew she was in love the moment she laid eyes on her, how would she know that meeting her and falling in love with her would be her downfall, that the end she would get Mei killed? True she knew her family and she should have known better, but she was so young and naive. She should have never opened up to Mei. Maybe that's why she was hesitant to tell Sherlock and John about her past, the last person she told her past too ended up with a bullet in their head, which insulted of her going on the Run when she was only 14 years old. She was in her 30s now, she was no longer a scared little girl, she was ready to face her past, at least she hoped she was.

Sherlock and John wasn't Ordinary People, John was an ex-soldier, Sherlock was a private detective that could clearly take care of himself, so perhaps it would be okay to open up to them, she had to start trusting someone sometime, so why not start with Sherlock and John? She knew deep down that they could be trusted, and she knew without a second thought that they could be trusted with the secrets of her past.

But a part of her was afraid, when or if she told them everything what would they think of her then? Ivy was very deeply ashamed of her family, with good reason. A family was supposed to love and cherish you, not threatening you by turning off your fingers if you don't do what you're told. She knew she was different ever since she was 10 years old, running away from home proved that.

She closed her eyes and just listened to the city. Yes, she loved it here. She could see herself living in London, going around with Sherlock Holmes helping him solve Murder Mysteries and crimes. Maybe she would eventually get her own apartment and get a dog, then slowly she could forget about the past. Maybe have a relationship, if not that kind of a relationship than a friendship with Sherlock and John.

But that was nothing but a Daydream, things so rarely happen that perfectly in reality, in reality things are screwed up and the happy ending never really comes. Ivy knew that, but it was still nice to daydream now and then.

She should get back. She opened her eyes and turned around heading in the direction she came.

Her mind still wandered to different subjects, whether or not she was going to tell Sherlock and John everything about her past, to opening the envelope. Her mind wouldn't shut up, so she turned her thoughts to the case that they were currently working on.

Mr Ross wasn't the killer of Mr King, but according to Sherlock they were being blackmailed, that's why they decided to Rob the jewelry store, a bank was probably going to be next on the list. The blood on the clothing didn't belong to Mr king, and instead was pigs blood, the whole scene was meant to look like Mr Ross and Mr king got into the argument who would split the phase of the diamonds, so Mr Ross killed him for his share of the diamonds. But like Sherlock pointed out they were drugged, and why would someone go to bed and their bloody clothes after killing a man? Wouldn't he get rid of the bloody clothes and the body, clean up then go to bed? But that's not how the scene was discovered, it was a setup, obviously.

Plus no one could find the murder weapon, Molly said that it had to be something small, like a needle. What made it even more curious and frustrating was that poison was found in Mr king's system that was injected in the neck, precisely where he bled out. Sherlock believed that it was a syringe, and the murderer had no idea what they were doing and accidentally stabbed a artery, ending with the poor man bleeding to death on the living room floor.

Ivy managed to get Mr Ross and Mr king's partner's name, but they were having trouble tracking him down.

She had to admit that trying to figure out the cases was satisfying, and fun. She found it if she was concentrating on a case that she didn't think of her past too often, it was nice to think about something else for a change.

When she got back to the flat, Sherlock was sitting in his chair with his eyes closed, his fingers steepled in front of him, he was obviously in his mind Palace. John wasn't anywhere to be seen. She glanced at her phone to see the time. It was 3:14 AM. No wonder she felt tired. How long has she been walking? Come to think of it her feet was hurting.

"You've been out practically the entire night" said Sherlock, eyes still closed.

Ivy sighed. "I needed some time to myself to think. Figured anythin' out yet?"

"Maybe"

She scoffed. "Maybe? If that's all that you have then you're gettin' slow aren't you?"

"I never gets low of anything I get faster"

"Right." She settled herself and John's chair, tucking her legs beneath her. "John in bed?"

Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at her puzzled. "I was just talking to him"

"Right," she smiled. "Mrs Hudson and John told me that you do that"

She looked at the dancing flames in the fireplace, the only light in the room at the moment.

"Sherlock, do you believe that things happen for a reason, that there are no coincidence's?"

Sherlock scoffed. "The universe is never that lazy"

"Mei..she - she used to say that we were meant to meet and fall in love, and like a fool I believed her and still do to this day."

She looked back at Sherlock but he was already back in his mind Palace. Her eyes return to the dancing flames. They sat there in companionship silence, until someone was shaking her awake.

Blinking, she looked at Sherlock, who had an excited gleam in his eyes.

"Oh," she yawned. "I've must have dozed off."

"You were snoring it was putting me off." Sherlock said dryly as he got to his feet, grabbing his violin.

"Rude. Are you forgettin' why I'm so tired?"

"I've haven't got the foggiest."

"Oh, I don't know maybe a ball being hit against the wall."

Sherlock hummed. "I don't we call that."

"Sherlie, you have a goddamn photographic memory, you forget nothin' I'm pretty sure you remember wakin' me up early in the mornin' because you were bored."

Sherlock didn't reply as he went to play his violin looking out the window. She sat there a moment watching him sway to the soft music, before she dragged herself out of John's chair and went to the bedroom. She collapsed on the air mattress and almost was asleep instantly her head hit the pillow, the untouched an opened envelope flashing through her mind briefly before sleep claimed her.


	9. And Another One Solved

Hi Sherlock fans and my lovely readers and followers. Like always all thanks goes out to you.

Sherlock: Why are you all reading this? It is so dull.

Me: Sherlock! give me back my tablet!

And since it is the season happy holidays to all. :-)

The Game Is On.

* * *

There are so many mysteries in life, half of the time the Mysteries made life exciting and worth living, because without Mysteries or puzzles life would be so boring, just imagine if life had no mystery or any excitement, dull. And if it wasn't for curiosity people wouldn't have what they do, but like they say curiosity killed the cat, and Ivy fully understood that now. It was a mystery that someone could be so insensitive and all around the biggest righteous dick she had ever met in her entire life. And Sherlock was the insensitive dick she was referring to.

Ivy was sleeping when the detective came running in and dragged her out of bed, John was dragged out of bed as well it seemed, she took a sort of sick satisfaction knowing that she wasn't the only one. When you live with Sherlock Holmes you expect the unexpectable. Also expect to never sleep when Sherlock is on a case, cuz you won't get much sleep. Hey, at least she got an hour. Sherlock didn't even let her get dressed, she was still in her oversized t-shirt and shorts that she preferred to sleep in. She barely grabbed her jacket as he pulled them both out the door. John seemed not to be bothered at all. But she was.

So, okay so maybe she was a little cranky when she was woken up, Sherlock's cranky when he's bored and he doesn't have a case. So there.

Sherlock got a call from Lestrade, apparently Mr Ross and Mr King's partner, Mr Rose's body was found by a dog walker. But the question was if Mr Rose was dead, then who killed Mr King? Somethin' don't add up, their missing somethin', but what? She had no doubt whatsoever that Sherlock would figure it out, the game was on after all.

When they arrive to their destination, Sherlock jumped out of the cab without a second glance to either one of them, Ivy right behind followed by John.

police cars filled the street, crime scene tape roped off the body of Mr Rose laying in the street staring up at the night sky. Lestrade came to them, Sherlock being Sherlock walked passed him and to the body. Lestrade shrugged it off and turned to Ivy and John.

"It's Mr Rose," said Lestrade "a dog walker found the body."

"Right," sighed John.

"This man wasn't killed like the other one" Sherlock suddenly declared.

"How do you know?" asked Lestrade. It never cease to amaze Ivy that people still question him.

"This man was poisoned but it wasn't by a syringe. Look at the discoloration around his lips, this man drunk his poison." Sherlock jumped to his feet and spun around holding a water bottle. "This is more then a robbery of a jewelry store. This is so much more."

"Sherlie," said Ivy crossing her arms, giving him a stern look. "little people here."

"Don't you see?" he asked, frustrated, his eye's darting between the three of them.

"No, we don't Sherlock." Said John copying Ivy's movements from earlier.

"This is about money, well part of it," Sherlock said quickly walking around the body. "this man and Mr Rose didn't want to share their part. But the murderer was clever, oh very clever indeed. The murderer knew his partners like the back of his hand and he knew their actions, he knew this man went running every morning."

"How do you know that?" Lestrade exclaimed.

"Look at his clothes and his shoes. His shoes shoes are comfortable and easy to run in and so is his clothing. The murderer knew him so well that he was invited into his home without question, that's when he made his move by putting the poison in the water bottle knowing that he would go running early this morning. Oh, yes, clever." Sherlock smiled like a kid on Christmas Day.

"Sherlock." Said John. "Timing."

"Now who did both victims know so well that they wouldn't think twice about letting them into their homes?" he asked turning to them.

"Hot damn," Ivy exclaimed. "Mr Ross."

Sherlock's smile widened if that was possible. "Yes. But it was more then about money, it was jealousy and revenge."

"jealousy and revenge?" John asked. "Are you saying that Mr Ross was in love with one of the victims?"

"But Mr King didn't choose him he instead went with Mr Rose. So Mr Ross stood out the way. I noticed how he acted when he looked at Mr King, like he had nothing to life for. But he didn't kill the man he loved, this man," he pointed at the man laying on the ground. "Did. Mr Ross was there, but he could do nothing as he watched the man he loved being killed. But Mr Rose thought he was out cold. So before Mr Ross came to us he stopped by Mr Rose's flat and must have put the poison in the water bottle then came to us. Mr Rose had it all planned out. He made it look like Mr Ross set himself up."

"Wow," said Ivy grinning. "You're amazin' you know that?"

"Don't," John sighed "your give him a bigger head than he already has."

"I'm thinkin' it's far to late for that."

Lestrade went to barking orders. Ivy John and Sherlock took that as the cue to leave. But before they could, they were stopped by a woman Detective. She gave Sherlock a look something between disgust and disapproval.

"Hey freak." she said, venom dripping from her voice like honey off of a cone.

Sherlock smiled. "Donovan."

"Who's this?" Asked Donovan looking at Ivy.

"Our friend. Ivy Donovan, Donovan Ivy." John introduced.

"Hi" Ivy said politely.

"Pulled another one have you?" she looked at Sherlock then back to her. "This man," she pointed in Sherlock's general direction. "is insane."

Sherlock stiffened beside her, John gave her a cold look.

"That right?" Asked Ivy calmly.

"Stay away from this man if you know what's good for you."

"And you know what's good for me do you?"

Ivy and Donovan stared at one another for a moment. "He's insane."

"Aren't we all just a little?" Ivy asked.

"He gets off on this." she gestured behind Ivy at the body.

"So?"

Ivy could tell that Sherlock had little patience for this woman, and she wondered if she always taunted him like that, it was obvious even without Sherlock's deductive genius that the two did not get along. On Ivy's part, she took a instant dislike to her. She did not like how she looked at Sherlock like he was something on the floor. It didn't seem to bother Sherlock in the slightest, but it pissed Ivy right the fuck off. And the way John was looking at her said that he felt the same way she did.

"One day you'll be the killer." said Donovan to Sherlock.

"Always a pleasure." said Sherlock, rolling his eyes. He went to move around her, and she stepped in his way again.

"It's only a matter of time."

"That so?" Sighed Sherlock. "Tell me how's Anderson?" he sniffed the air. "Still sharing his deodorant I see. You didn't go home last night. And because you didn't go home you used his shampoo and his deodorant. Still scrubbing his floors are you?"

Ivy couldn't hold back a laugh, although she was being honest she didn't really try all that hard. John laughed but he was a lot better at hiding it, Ivy didn't care.

Donovan gave him a cold stare, Sherlock returned it. "Just wait Sherlock Holmes, one day people will know that I was right about you all along."

That's it, Ivy had it! She knew she didn't have to, but she wanted to, partly because she couldn't stand this woman, and she didn't like her talking bad about her friend.

"Back off!" Ivy snapped, stepping in front of Sherlock, looking Donovan in the eye's. "I've only just met you, and I can tell you don't like Sherlock all that much, why is that?" Donovan went to say something, but Ivy cut her off. "Ah, I know, it's because Sherlock is better than you in every way. You know they say jealousy is an ugly look and your proof of that."

John and Sherlock both stared at her in shock. Sherlock's dumbstruck look was almost worth it. That, and damn this felt good.

"You Can't - what did you?" Donovan spluttered. "What, do you like him?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Oh, in what way?" she smirked, looking between the three of them. "Oh, are the three of you in some sort of weird relationship?"

John went to say something, but Ivy cut him off. "I do believe that's none of your fuckin' business!"

"He don't care about you!" Donovan called after her as she took Sherlock and John's arms and started to walk away.

"Sherlock care's more then you think!" Ivy called back. "Oh, and fuck you!" She turned long enough to flash her metal finger.

"You didn't have to do that." Said Sherlock after a moment.

"I know, but I wanted to, and she pissed me off."

"I thought you were brilliant." Said John.

"I think you guys are brilliant." Ivy linked her arms with there's. "Now let's go home."

And together the three of them walked home to 221B Baker Street.

* * *

I've always wanted to tell off Donovan, so I did it through my character, and boy did it feel good. XD


	10. By Blood Part 1

Hey Sherlock fans and my amazing and awesome readers and followers, all the thanks goes out to you. And happy holidays to all.

SH: I know right? And I've corrected the spelling errors thank you for letting me know about them. I've also added a few things here and there.

Note From Sherlock Holmes. I have been informed I need to thank you all for following the story, though I still don't understand how anyone could enjoy something this dull. But I suppose that the story is enjoyable to ones who don't know a good story when they read one. But it isn't as bad as John's blog, though I still don't understand why things have to have titles they make no sense, why do they need a title? And at least the story doesn't have me wearing that horrible hat.

The Game Is On.

* * *

It was a week before Christmas, the snow was falling heavily, masking the street in a white haze. The storm was so bad that they couldn't step outside, which meant John Sherlock and Ivy had no choice but to stay in, with an extremely bored Sherlock and Ivy, who was currently sitting on the floor in the middle of the room playing operation. John had to smile, It really was an amusing sight. Ivy was good at keeping Sherlock entertained, even though she kept complaining that he kept winning, apparently she was a sore loser. But he could tell they both were having fun. Sherlock was obviously enjoying winning. As long as they don't play Pluto then everything should be fine.

The flat was lit up by the warm fire and the Christmas tree and the Christmas lights. Ivy had insisted of decorating the flat for Christmas, and she did a really beautiful job of it. John helped, but she did most of it all on her own. She had hung Garland and Christmas lights above all the doors. She obviously had a lot of fun, and he could tell she decorated with care. She said something that this was her first Christmas since she went on the Run.

John didn't know what to think of that. Ivy was a kind-hearted person, who would want to kill her, and why? He liked her and he knew Sherlock did too. For an strange reason she fit so perfectly with them.

Then there's Mei, Ivy's girlfriend that was killed. What could Ivy had done or seen? Sherlock had to know, but he hadn't said anything, which was slightly out of character. But maybe he was afraid if her past comes knocking on their door she would run like John was. No, she was safer with them. Sherlock had deduced that she was a thief and she used to pickpocket to get by, Ivy didn't deny it she actually admitted to it, she then told them how she managed to get to England by using a lonely man by making him a promise that she had no intention of keeping. But she did what she had to do to survive. But John didn't want her to be forced back into that life. She was his friend.

John sat at the desk, writing up their current case. He hadn't mentioned anything about Ivy however, she was on the run, he didn't want her to be known to the public.

He heard Sherlock mumble something, then it was Ivy who spoke. "Johnny, you can go on and write about me."

'Johnny' was her nickname for him, like 'Sherlie' was Sherlock's but he didn't mind, and it seemed Sherlock didn't mind her nickname for him either.

He turned in his chair to face her. "But your on the run."

She smiled. "Can't hide forever. And besides, I think the envelope that was taped to the door addressed to me pretty much says that Tom knows where I am."

"Right, but-"

"No buts, go on, tell your fans who I am, just maybe leave the part that I'm running for my life from the mob that wants my head on a silver platter."

"So you are running from the mob." Sherlock said.

She shot Sherlock a knowing look. "Oh, like you didn't know."

"I expected."

"Yeah, I'm sure you did."

"Well, it was obvious, why would one go so far to run if one wasn't running from the mob?"

"Right. Anyway, go on and write about me. And don't forget about my wonderful personality and charm."

"Your not going to take no for an answer are you?" John sighed.

"No." Said Sherlock. "She's determined, your be better off doing what she wants."

"See Johnny, owe it to Mr Sherlock Holmes to know how incredibly stubborn I can be." She beamed, as Sherlock sighed and rolled his eye's. "Now go on." she then returned her attention to the game.

John went back to writing, only this time he wrote about Ivy.

...

After writing and posting he stood up and stretched. He left out certain parts, but other than that he pretty much wrote about everything.

Sherlock and Ivy apparently had gotten bored of operation, so now they were both sitting on the floor on either side of the coffee table playing chess. Ivy seemed to be holding her own. John sat on the couch, watching them play the game. It turned out Ivy made it difficult for Sherlock to win, the game lasted almost two hours before Sherlock won. It was clear to see that his friend rather enjoyed the challenge. After chess they started the game Clue that Ivy had bought, even John joined in the game this time.

Sherlock went to deducing about the game and even the characters and the motives.

"Sherlie, do you have to deduce everythin'?" Asked Ivy grinning as she leaned back on her hands that was braced behind her.

"He's a show off." said John as he took his turn.

Sherlock rolled his eye's and went back to deducing. After a few moments there friend of course won the game. They played clue a few more times before eventually they started to play Monopoly.

"I've always loved this game." Ivy declared as she took her turn.

"Why?" asked Sherlock. "It's dull."

Ivy childishly stuck her tongue out at him. "I played the game's you wanted to play, now your playin' what I wanna."

"I don't mind it." said John, taking his turn.

Sherlock sighed, but took his turn anyway. "Oh how i do envy how simple you're little brains are."

"My darlin' Sherlock how incredibly rude." Ivy laughed.

"He can be." Sighed John smiling.

"Bad?" asked Sherlock.

"No, that's who you are," said Ivy. "and we wouldn't have you any other way."

" No we wouldn't." John agreed.

"No, of course not, otherwise you two would be bored."

"that we would." Said Ivy and, John agreed.

After an hour of playing it turns out that Ivy was the winner this go around. Sherlock grumbled and said something about Ivy was cheating, Ivy just smiled at him.

...

The storm ended the following day, to John's relief because his friends was driving him up the wall. Both Sherlock and Ivy was now complaining that they had no cases and had nothing to do, and that they were bored out of their minds, who knew that Sherlock's attitude when he was bored could spread to person to person. But unlike his flatmate, Ivy didn't constantly go around complaining pouting and moping about her boredom, instead she decided to cook and bake to relieve her boredom, as for Sherlock, John made sure that his gun was hidden. The last thing he wanted was his friend to shoot up the walls, again.

Ivy was an excellent cook and baker, her brownies were to die for, and even Sherlock complemented her brownies.

But a few days later Ivy apparently got tired of baking and cooking, now she apparently made it her life mission in life to read every single book on the bookshelves. And she was even taking notes and looking up things that she didn't understand. As Sherlock was busy with his weird experiments. John tried even harder to find a case, any case.

By each passing day their boredom got worse and worse, and they both were running out of things to do quickly.

It came to the point that he was concerned leaving them alone since he came home and found both Sherlock and Ivy covered with soot and the kitchen a mess. Apparently one of Sherlock's experiments went horribly wrong. And Ivy apparently even joined in by putting magnets in the microwave to see what would happen. They looked like two kids that were caught doing something they weren't supposed to when one of their parents came home. They both had the decency to look sheepish and Mumble apologies. The three of them cleaned up the kitchen that quickly became a race who could finish the fastest between Sherlock and Ivy. They didn't even act like adults half of the time. And John had to go out and buy a new microwave.

God, John needed to find them a case, and soon.

Mycroft would come by from time to time. To John's and Sherlock's surprise Ivy and Mycroft got on, and they were even becoming friends. Mycroft seemed to be quite fond of Ivy, well, as fond as he would allow to show that was.

It turned out the hotel blowing up had nothing to do with Ivy, it was a gas explosion. And Mycroft was thinking that it was some sort of a terrorist attack. But Sherlock, of course solved it.

John finally found them a case, partly to get his friends out from the flat. A kidnapping. A woman was kidnapped and held for ransom. It turned out that it was the father in law that was holding them for ransom. Apparently he had a gambling problem and he owed money, so he decided to hold his sister-in-law for ransom to try to pay back the money that he owed. Sherlock and Ivy was disappointed how easy the case was.

Before the three knew it Christmas was just around the corner. It left John to wonder where the time goes.

oOo

Sherlock was playing his violin, Ivy was in Sherlock's chair reading a Dean Koontz book. John was on the computer, probably writing about the recent case no doubt.

The crackling fire John's typing the violin music, and Ivy turning the page of her book now and then was the only sounds that could be heard. But it was a comfortable silence, where neither one of them needed to talk, was just enjoying each other's company.

Ivy had never felt this relaxed since she was ten years old. Her family did do Christmas, but it was far from being happy. Her and her brother was too afraid to make the wrong move because of who their father was. Ivy's father was a very powerful and scary man. But her father wasn't there, Sherlock and John was.

It had been a long time since she's been excited about Christmas Day. She got John a new pocket watch engraved with his name. For Mrs H she got her an antique tea set from the 1930s, and Sherlock made sure that the tea set was authentic. Ivy couldn't wait so she ended up giving her her present a day early, Mrs H loved it. Lestrade she got him bottle of scotch, that she may or may have not stolen, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. For Mycroft she got him an umbrella with his name engraved on the handle.

Mycroft had come over quite a few times and she found that he was actually a decent guy, he just loved his brother. She didn't know how it happened, but she and Mycroft had become friend's. Though 'friends' wouldn't be the word Mycroft would use, but that's what they were. Molly a bottle of perfume and a new red scarf that she knitted herself. She made one for Sherlock John Mrs H Mycroft and Lestrade as well.

John told her Sherlock and Mycroft's parents wanted to meet her. Ivy didn't know what to think of that. Sherlock didn't seem to be that excited to go to his parents house for Christmas, but John informed her that he loved his parents, and that they were really nice and kind-hearted people. So, she got Mrs Holmes a bottle of perfume and Mr Holmes a an extremely expensive wrist watch.

She hadn't told her friends how she got the money to afford their Christmas presents, not like she had to.

Sherlock stopped playing his violin and leaned over her shoulder to appear at the book she was reading. "What is this?"

"It's called a book, it's somethin' that people right and then you read about it."

"Yes, but why are you reading it?"

"Because I want to."

"Thought you were reading the books on the shelfs." Sherlock looked thoughtful.

She looked at him. "I am. But i decided to take a break from those, they were starting to give me a headache."

"It's because your brain is Barely Used, therefore you're having trouble understanding them."

"Sherlock." John scolded.

"Again, rude."

Sherlock smirked, then went back to playing his violin. Ivy sighed and went back to reading her book.

...

Ivy was extremely nervous for some unknown stupid reason. Will Mr and Mrs Holmes like her? Here she was standing on the doorstep of Sherlock's parents house on Christmas Day, worrying that her friend's parents wasn't going to like her. Why did it matter if they liked her? She never cared what people thought of her before, when did that change?

'The day you met Sherlock Holmes' a voice in the back of her mind echoed.

The Holmes house was nice but it wasn't overdone, it was welcoming. Ivy had never felt that way about a home before, not even her own.

Molly and Lestrade loved their gifts. And Sherlock and John seemed to like theirs. John and Sherlock both was wearing their scarf that she knitted them. A red one for John and a blue one for Sherlock. John loved his pocket watch. And Sherlock liked his book of Unsolved Mysteries from all over the world. It made her happy that they like their gifts.

Ivy had gotten Dean Kooz's new book from John. She told them that they didn't need to get her a thing, but they apparently didn't take no for an answer, she was touched all the same. Sherlock hadn't given his to her yet. He said that it wasn't time. Ivy was curious.

Her nervous fidgeting must have been noticeable, because Sherlock put a comforting hand on her shoulder, just as the door opened and Ivy was pulled into a hug. Ivy was pleasantly surprised. She had never received such a warm welcome.

"You must be Ivy." Said Mrs Holmes, letting go of her and takeing a step back.

Ivy liked her right away. "Hi. Ivy Walker." She held out her hand to Mr and Mrs Holmes, they shook hands as Sherlock went inside.

"It's good to meet you. Come in." Said Mr Holmes.

...

It was a nice evening. Ivy was surprised how ordinary Sherlock and Mycroft's parents were. Mycroft kept saying how they never did this, but never made an effort to leave. If Ivy knew better she would say he was actually enjoying it, though she highly doubt it her friend would admit that, even under torture. Mrs and Mr Holmes loved their gifts, and Ivy was surprised for the 10th billionth time that night that she had gotten presents from them both. A leather jacket and a deep purple scarf. She decided that she loved Mrs and Mr Holmes.

Mycroft was speechless when he received her present from her, she took it as a good sign. He eventually told her thank you.

Sherlock was playing his violin in the living room, as Ivy helped Mrs Holmes with the clean up in the kitchen.

"You don't have to help me." Said Mrs Holmes.

"I know. I want to."

"They like you."

"I like them."

"Sherlock and Mycroft don't have a lot of friends."

"Don't I know that. Sherlie can be a pain, and so can Mickey, but that's who they are."

"Yes." Mrs Holmes sighed. "I just want my boys to be happy."

"Think they are."

"Oh, I know they are." She looked at her. "Sherlock is happy because of John and now you. I'm happy they have friends. Now with you and John I don't have to worry about my son."

Ivy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You would have to ask Sherlock, it's not my place to say dear."

"Do you mean that he's an addict?" Asked Ivy carefully not sure if his parents knew that or not.

"Oh, he told you?" She looked surprised.

Ivy shook her head "No, It's Sherlock, No, I've heard stories, I just thought that's all they were."

"He's different now."

Ivy smiled as she dried a dish and placed it in the dish stream, before looking at Mrs Holmes. "I don't judge people by the actions of their past, what a person does in the future is that matters.

" John is good for him, and I can tell so are you."

Ivy sighed. Since she gave permission for John to write about her in his blog there had been stories and rumors about her Sherlock and John being a threesome that just wasn't true. But some of the rumors and stories was pretty amusing. She especially like the one that her and Sherlock was secretly married.

"Mrs Holmes, I'm not - I do love your sons, but not in that way. Their like my brothers."

"Oh, I know. They see you as a sister."

Now it was Ivy's turn to be surprised. "Do they? Wow, don't know what to say to that."

"But don't say anything, they will just deny it."

Ivy smiled widely "Don't worry, my lips is sealed."

It made her happy that both Sherlock and Mycroft seen her in that way.

...

Back at 221B Ivy was in a good mood, and it was quite possibly that she was a little drunk. No, she was just happy, drunk, but happy. When she walked in she took off her new leather jacket and scarf that she had gotten from Mrs and Mr Holmes and placed them on the back of John's chair, as John turned on the lights.

"I've hadn't had that much fun in a long time." She said. "I like Mrs and Mr Holmes."

"You okay?" asked John.

Ivy turned her back to the open door to face them. "Oh, better than okay. I've found my home. And this," she gestured around "is my home."

John smiled widely. "You're going to stay then?"

"If I'm welcomed too."

"Yeah, yeah of course you are."

"Good. Because I'm not goin' anywhere."

If she didn't know Sherlock as she does she would say that he didn't care, but the small smile told her everything she needed to know.

'What if Tom goes after them to get to you?' Asked a small voice that suspiciously sounded a lot like Sherlock's in the back of her mind.

What if that did happen? She loved these two men too much to allow anything to happen to them. But at the moment she was happy. She instead decided to pushed the thought away and enjoy the happiness of the moment.

"Sherlock." said John, giving his friend a look.

Ivy looked between them curious what that look must have meant.

Sherlock went to his room and came back a few moments later caring a violin case, he then held it out to her. "You didn't used to play piano but the violin as well."

She traced her initials I.W that was engraved on the case with her forefinger. She stared at it a few moments, before she took it from him with shaky hands and held it to her heart. Yes, she loved the violin, she loved drawing painting and playing the piano but not as much as she did as playing the violin, the violin would always make her forget about her troubles. This wonderful thoughtful gift meant so much more than she could possibly say, the violin was her heart, and Sherlock knew that, because of course he did.

After a moment she looked at John, then up at Sherlock. "How did you know?"

"How you would listen as I played, as if you missed it. You love the piano, but the violin was and still is your passion."

She struggled to form words for a moment. "It is. Sherlie, thank you." Still holding the violin with one arm, she put the other around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Sherlock tensed, but returned the hug, by wrapping one arm awkwardly around her back. After a moment she pulled back from the hug. "Thank you."

She was about to hug John as well, when suddenly a look of shock and horror flashed crossed Sherlock's and John's faces, but before she could asked what was the matter there was a loud gunshot and glass shattering then unbearable pain.

Sherlock caught her in his arms before she fell to the floor. They both sled to the floor, with Sherlock cradling her head, as John's hand went to the bullet wound in her abdomen.

"Oh my - Ivy!" John said, voice full of panic.

"Sher - Sherlie? What-" She was vaguely aware of John pulling out his phone and calling the police.

Still holding the violin case to her heart, she looked up to Sherlock. He was saying something, but she couldn't hear it, her heartbeat was too loud and the pain was too intense. She managed to grab hold of his jacket that he hadn't taken off yet. She should be afraid, but with Sherlock holding her and John taking care of her she wasn't, she can't explain it but she knew she was in good hands.

Then she heard and felt nothing as she slipped into the darkness.

* * *

I'm sorry. Don't hate me.


	11. By Blood Part 2

Hi there Sherlock fans and consulting detectives and my lovely readers and follower's. So I have my thought's to myself. Sherlock John and Ivy went out, didn't ask where too. All the thanks goes out to all of you as always. And happy holidays to you all.

A/N. Now I am of no menes of a professional with medical knowledge, but I did do some research if you can consider me asking my niece who's going to nursing school research, then I did research. If I got anything wrong do not hesitate to tell me so that way I will know in the future, it's always good to know thing's.

Johlock: Yes, This is after the fall. John and Mary did get married and she did take the bullet for Sherlock. But they never had a baby, for the simple fact that I hate the thought of a daughter growing up without her mother. Everything that happened in the show has happened in this story. That includes Sherlock and Mycroft's sister and all that happened. Thank you for reading and taking the time to review. And happy holidays to ya.

SH: Gonna have to wait and see. I'm so evil I know. And happy holidays to ya.

Sherlock Holmes: I know right. I'm happy that your liking it. It may be Tom, it may not be, you're gonna have to wait and see, I'm evil I know. Thank you for reading and reviewing. XD Happy holidays to ya.

The Game Is On.

* * *

Ivy lay on a gurney in the back of the ambulance truck, as Sherlock and John sat there letting the MT'S do their job. Sherlock and John insisted on riding in the back with her. John, being the doctor that he was, kept telling the MT's how to do their job's. They seem to take it all in stride, knowing who they were. Sherlock could tell the woman was a big fan of John's blog, judging by the looks that she kept glancing their way, and if this wasn't a dire situation he had no doubt she would be asking them all kinds of questions that he had no patience to answer.

Ivy had flatlined twice, but the MT'S managed to get her heart beating again. But it was an experience he had no desire to repeat ever again. Ivy was pale and clammy, she lost a lot of blood, and had gained consciousness a few times. Her eye's found him and John every time. Sherlock kept two fingers to her pulse on her wrist, knowing that her heart was beating was enough to keep him calm and relaxed.

His mind was in overdrive. The problem was that he couldn't get his mind to concentrate on one thing, he thought of several things too fast that he couldn't think properly. He thought of Tom, the man Ivy had been running from for 16 years. The envelope that still lay on the coffee table unopened. The direction the shot came from. The red dot he saw trained on Ivy moments before the gunshot, and that he or John hadn't been fast enough to push her out of the way. And how empty the world would be knowing that Ivy Walker could not be a part of it.

He needed to think, he needed to think. But not here and not now.

Sherlock had tried so hard to attached himself from people and his emotions, but once again he was forced to face that he, like everyone else, had attachments, and Ivy was one of the few people like John that he found himself on unable and not wanting to live without. She had indeed become his friend. Ivy felt safe with them and trusted that they would keep her safe, John was feeling the exact same thing he was, that they failed, they had failed her, like Sherlock had failed John and Mary.

He looked quickly at John, who sat across from him holding Ivy's other hand. Their eye's met and a silent agreement as well as a promise past between them. Ivy won't end up like Mary, they are not going to lose another precious friend, not this time.

"Sher - Jo-" Ivy mumbled, voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

Sherlock and John's attention snapped back to their friend. John put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Ivy's sky blue eyes fluttered open for a moment before closing again "If - I-f if I - Don. Mrs-Mrs H T-told me About Mar - andwhat-Don' - I don want"

"V, shh, don't talk," John soothed. "we're here, right here."

"Don't - be fools-" she said before she slept unconsciousne once again.

...

When they arrive to the hospital after moment later, Sherlock and John ran beside the gurney, until they were told to wait outside in the waiting room. Sherlock began to immediately Pace in front of the quickly closing doors putting his fingers to his temples, as John stood there looking at the now closed doors.

Sherlock could tell by the tension of his shoulders in the way he was standing he was getting ready to punch or throw something. He was angry worried and scared. He could see the emotions written on his face as if they were words written on a page in a book. He needed assurance that their friend was going to be alright, but it would be a lie, it was more likely that Ivy was not going to make it the night, but it was a lie John needed to hear, and it was a lie he needed to tell himself.

Sherlock needed to think, he needed his mind Palace. Yes! That's it!

Sherlock settled himself in a nearby uncomfortable chair, put his Palms together and underneath his chin.

"Sherlock?" John's voice quivered slightly.

"Be quiet, I need to go into my mind Palace"

"Right, do what you have to."

"Don't be a fool John, I was planning on it."

He closed his eye's.

Ivy was standing in front of him facing the window her back to the open door. She hugged him, then Sherlock took a step back as Ivy went to hug John, then she was shot. No! Not that! There was something he was missing. The gun shot, glass shattering. Ivy falling. Glass, the window. Ivy was facing the window when she was shot, Sherlock and John was standing five feet from her but out of line of fire. Ivy was the target, it would have been much easier to shoot himself or John, but they were after Ivy. But why then did the shooter miss? Unless the shooter didn't miss.

The shot came from across the street, possibly from the roof. No, 221B wasn't that high. The shooter could have never gotten a good shot on the roof. Inside the building then, most likely from a window level with 221B's window. It would have been so easy for the shooter to shoot her in the head killing her instantly, yet they shot her in the abdomen, why? Someone as good obviously as they were they certainly wouldn't have missed, unless they wanted to miss. Why then didn't they kill Ivy? They didn't want to kill her, yet they shot her anyway but giving her a slight chance to survive. Why? It was someone that knew Ivy, and that she knew.

'Brother's can be a pain in the ass sometimes can't they?' Ivy had asked him once when Mycroft came for a visit then left.

Sherlock knew immediately she was talking from experience. She had let a few things slip now and then about her brother, but she had never mentioned her brother by name, or directly, but the unspoken words about her brother hun in the air. She always told Sherlock and Mycroft that they shouldn't fight so much, and that they should cherish the time they have together.

The envelope.

'Are you going to open it?' John had asked.

'No, I know who it's from.' Ivy then had muttered something about needed some air, and then had left the flat.

Ivy was left-handed, and judging by the writing on the envelope it was written by a left-hand. left-handed people was quite common with siblings.

His eye's snapped open.

"I need to go back to the flat." He said getting to his feet. "John, stay here."

"Right."

Sherlock left pulling out his phone sending a quick text to Lestrade.

'**Come to 221B Now! SH**'

...

The window behind Sherlock's chair was broken with a Bullet Hole, shards of glass scattered across the floor. Ivy's violin that was unplayed still lay on the floor when John had put it as Sherlock carried Ivy outside to the waiting ambulance. Sherlock had told Mrs H what had happened when he returned to 221B, and the hospital where Ivy was currently having surgery to remove the bullet. She had gone to wait at the hospital with John.

Ivy's blood still stained the floor, but he couldn't think of that right now, he couldn't care about that at this moment.

Sherlock went to the coffee table and picked up the still unopened envelope. He could almost here Ivy's voice in his head chastising him about opening someone else's mail.

"What is this about Sherlock?" Asked Lestrade as he walked in the flat.

"Attempt of murder." Sherlock said opening the envelope.

"What! Who? Where's John and Ivy?"

"The hospital"

"Was John or-"

"Ivy was shot, and that's all you need to know right at this moment."

Sherlock took out the folded piece of paper and read the words that was written on it.

oOo

"What have i done?" he asked himself as he stood outside the door.

He could see Ivy laying on the hospital bed through the window in the door. She was unconscious but that's to be expected. She was older, but it had been 16 years.

He never wanted it to come to this, for 16 years they had been playing this game, for 16 years Ivy had been running from this moment, they both have. He didn't want to go in that room and finish the job. Why him? Because he failed 16 years ago and he had failed again tonight. He couldn't kill her, he just couldn't. He knew what he was risking by not following orders, but he couldn't kill her. This whole thing was unfair always had been. It shouldn't be him, it should have never come to this.

He was in the waiting room when he overheard the, Dr Smith, telling John and Mrs Hudson that Ivy was out of surgery but not out of the woods as of yet. She had made it through the surgery, but she was still unconscious. John had asked if they could see her, but Dr Smith told them they could see her the following day. He then followed the doctor to Ivy's room, and had waited for him to leave.

Now he stood there, at the crossroads not sure what road he wanted to go down. There were several options that he could take, he could lie and tell Tom that Ivy would no longer be a problem, but Tom was no fool and he would send someone to check out if he was telling the truth. Then once he found out that he lied Ivy and himself would be in even more danger than they already are. He could go in that room and end it all, fast and swift, but he knew that he could never live with that guilt. He could just walk away from it all, run with Ivy, but who then would make sure that she runs as far away as he dared to allow her? He could tell Ivy's friend, Sherlock Holmes everything and allow it to be taken out of his hands. But look at what happened tonight, Mr Holmes didn't keep her safe like he had hoped. But Sherlock was just a man.

Victor opened the door and went inside the room.

Ivy looked so small and fragile, though, he knew different. Ivy was always the strong independent one, she never once asked for help and could always take care of herself. These 16 years had proving that.

Closing the door he went to her bed-side, and took her hand that wasn't connected to IVs. It had been so long that he could just hold her hand.

"Hey Vie, been a long time." He whispered. "You of all people know that I've never wanted this. Why couldn't you just do what you were told? But that's not who you are, right Vie?" Victor couldn't do this, no, it's not that he couldn't, he didn't want to. "Vie, I'm sorry."

No, he won't do this, Vie was and still his friend, and always will no matter what happens.

Letting go of her hand he turned and walked out of the room, hoping that the decision then he made won't cross them both their lives.

Victor passed John and Sherlock on their way to Ivy's room, obviously somehow talked the doctor in seeing her, but Sherlock's older brother, Mycroft most likely had something to do with it.

Victor and Sherlock's eye's met for a moment as they passed one another. Victor heard what the man could do and he was hoping that he read everything that he could, not like Victor tried to hide anything, what would be the point?

Once outside the hospital he pulled out his phone and dial the familiar number.

Tom answered on the first ring. "Is it done?"

Victor hated this man with everything that he was, he just hadn't realized it until this point.

He tried to keep his voice steady and as much anger out of it as possible as he answered. "No, I was interrupted before I could take the shot."

"This had been the third time you failed."

"It couldn't be helped. The owner of the apartment came back earlier than I expected."

"Do you think me a fool?!"

A icely fear settled in Victor stomach. "No, why would-"

"You had the perfect opportunity to take care of it, and yet somehow she survived. Did you honestly think that I wouldn't have you followed?!"

He stopped. "I can't"

"Why can't you?"

"You know why!"

"Your letting your emotions get in the way! I've warned you what would happen. This is your last chance do not fail me again! Take care of it, or I will and it won't be pleasant!"

Tom terminated the call.

"No," he muttered underneath his breath as he changed Direction. "Like hell you will"


	12. By Blood part 3

**A/N: I went back in this chapter and corrected some spelling errors that was pointed out to me. Thank you Irina Hunter for pointing out the spelling errors.**

* * *

Hi there my lovely readers followers and Sherlock fans. I know, I know, It's been a bit. I'm sorry. But here we are, the last chapter of this story, but the sequel to this story should be coming out soon, hopefully.

Like always, all thanks goes out to all of you. I love you all, hugs to all of you.

Note from Sherlock Holmes. You are still reading this, do you not have anything better to do? But I suppose I should say thank you for reading the story. And Remember that the game is never truly over.

SH: Thank you, I'm still sad, and I miss my old man every day, but I'm okay.

* * *

The game is on.

The sound of the heart monitors beeping was all that could be heard in the hospital room. The room was filled with get well bouquets of flowers and cards from John Molly and Lestrade and other's. And two without a name, that was most likely from Mycroft and Sherlock, though when asked they both had denied it. But John knew better.

It was surreal, almost like this wasn't real. And if he was being completely honest, he wished that it wasn't. How could this have happened?

Ivy looked so small as she lay In the hospital bed. John was Sitting in the chair beside her holding her hand.

It had been a week since she was shot, the Doctor say she should have woken up by now, but she hasn't. John was worried about his friend, and he could tell Sherlock was just as worried as he was, though, he would show it in different ways but he was.

He looked at Ivy's pretty face. She looked paler than usual. He wished that there was more than he could do, but truth was all he could do was just be here for his friend when she woke up.

Sherlock would come and set with her at night when John would go home, he kept it to Himself that he knew that, knowing Sherlock, He would just denied it anyway. Sherlock cared about her, John would have to be blind not to see that, he Just hoped that Ivy knew that as well. In what way, that had to be up to Sherlock, wasn't his place to ask.

This had to be Tom's doing, no doubt. But if it was Tom, if they wanted to kill her, then why did they miss? Sherlock thought it wasn't an accident that the shooter missed, he believed that they had missed on purpose, and John was starting to believe that as well. But why? That was the simple question that they didn't have an answer to.

"V," said John quietly. "We will be here for you when you wake up, you better wake up, you hear me?"

What would they do if she didn't wake up? That was something he would rather not think of. She was like the glue that held him and Sherlock together, he didn't think he could Handle losing another beloved friend, like Mary. And he knew Sherlock couldn't either. It was hard to believe that she became such a big part of their lives, and in a short amount of time. But she had. For some strange reason, she fit so well with them.

John Looked at the clock hanging above the door. It was going on 5:00 AM In the morning. He better go on home for the night. He needed to make sure Sherlock wasn't doing anything stupid. John had been keeping a close eye on Sherlock, remembering what happened last time when something similar like this happened.

He looked at his friend one more time before rising from his chair and leaving the room.

...

When John got home to 22B, Sherlock was pacing. This was going on Night fore without any sleep, though, his friend had gone much longer without sleep, but still. Sherlock stopped, and looked at the wall.

"Sherlock." He said as he stood beside him, looking at the various pieces of paper taped to the wall, with a Photo of Ivy. John briefly wondered how in the world he managed to get his hands on a picture of Ivy. But this was Sherlock, so who knew.

It was a picture of Ivy and a boy that looked a lot like her. They both had the same features and both had blue eyes and blond hair, and looked to be around the same age. Ivy or the boy wasn't smiling in the picture. The boy and their friend looked younger in the picture than she does now. John took the picture and turned it to look on the back. But all it was was two names. Vienna and Victor. Frowning, he returned the photo to the wall.

"Vienna?" Asked John.

Sherlock hummed. "Yes, I expect that is her real name."

"Makes since, she is on the run."

Sherlock looked at him, then back to the wall. "No change I see." He observed.

John rubed his tired eyes, not bothering asking him how he knew. "No. Anything?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe? You are Sherlock Holmes, it's been a week, surely, you of all people have a theory."

"I am no God John," he met his gaze. "There are only so much that I can do."

John got the answer that was hidden between the lines. "Right."

"let's go." Said Sherlock turning swiftly and walking out, grabbing his jacket and starf on the way.

"Where are we going?"

"To when it all started."

...

The building was being restored it seemed. Night had fallen so it was dark in the building. John and Sherlock brought out they're flashlights and switch them on. Sherlock went to work, looking for something.

"Why are we here?" John asked, his voice echoing off the empty walls.

"Use your brain once in a while. Why do you think?"

John sighed heavenly. Sherlock was worried and concerned, because of that he decided to let that one go. "Sherlock, what we doing here?" He asked again. Then it clicked. "You think this is where Ivy was coming from when we met her."

"This place is only a mile from where we ran into her. And this," he pointed out blood drops on the floor with his flashlight, leading from the building to outside, so small that anyone and less your Sherlock Holmes would miss it. "This is where Ivy met up with-"

"May."

"-May, then something happened. But what?" He closed his eyes. From experience, John knew how Sherlock does things, so he would just let him do what he was going to do, and give advice if needed. Sherlock's eyes then flew open. "May was working for this Tom that Ivy had been running from for 16 years, but Ivy didn't know it. Ivy is very smart and very clever, as you know, trust don't come easily to her. Ivy had gotten careless and had trusted the wrong person. May said she wanted to meet, Ivy did. I believe we know the rest."

"Except, we don't know the reason why May wanted to meet her." John Pointed out. "Who is Ivy? Who is she really?"

"She is a friend." Sherlock murmured, but John pretended that he didn't hear.

"Why then Ivy or Vienna, feel she could trust May? And why did May want to meet Vienna here?" Asked John.

"I only know one person who knows the answer to that question. Tom wants her gone, then perhaps the hospital is not a safe place for her. She is going to run again, but we can't let her, not this time."

Sherlock was right. "Ok, What do we do?"

He looked at him. "What we do best."

oOo

Ivy opened her eye's. She lay in a hospital bed, she was in the hospital? Precisely the wrong place to be.

It took Ivy a few moments to remember what happened. Her Sherlock and John was in 221B, then she was shot, John calling the police, Sherlock carrying her to somewhere, Sherlock and John, Sherlock holding her hand, then nothing. Just parts here and there, but she could recall enough to fit the blurry and Scattered pieces together to get the picture.

But Sherlock and John wasn't the only one who held her hand. It was extremely hard to explain, but there was almost an lnduring presence that was no longer there, but she could feel it, it was as if it was a dream that she was trying to hold on to before she woke up. And she couldn't shake the feeling that she knew him.

Think of that at another time. Right now she needed to go.

Groaning, she set herself up, her injury protesting the movement, and carefully pulled out the IV needles in her hand. She then carefully slid to her feet and left the hospital room, taking her Black leather jacket that she got for Christmas, and left the hospital.

Though she hated to, but it appeard that the time has come that she had to leave. But for the safety of those she cared, about it was time to go. She Got a tab and told the driver the address of 22B1. There was no way she was leaving her Christmas present behind. She wondered how she was going to explain her leaving to her friends. Or, they would try to talk her out of it, and there was a part of hers afraid that she will let them.

Ivy looked out The window and allowed her mind to wander. She thought of all the happy moments that she spent with John and Sherlock. She also thought of the angry and frustrated parts. But the happy parts over shadowed the bad, like when Sherlock Allowed her to join him Helping him with his experiments, and those times that John gave her money to go out and buy whatever she wanted. And how Mrs H Lights up when she talks about old stories with her about their guys Old adventures and cases. Ivy Never wanted this, she never wanted to plant roots anywhere, Now she had and it was difficult to leave. She loved the life that she built here, but like always the haunted shadows of her past had finally risen it's ugly head.

Ivy had enough, she wasn't going to run anymore. No, this time she's going to end the game.

When the cab driver arrived to her destination, she jumped out without paying, Leaving the cab driver complaints behind her as she went up to the flat. She was relieved when she walked in and found it deserted. She immediately went to Packing everything that she needed. She had also changed out of the Hospital gown into a red T-shirt in blue jeans. Her Injury reminded her that it was still there every move she made, and she felt slightly dizzy, but she powered through. Not even the stab Injury she had hurt this much.

She slipped on her black leather jacket after she was packed and she had her violin case in her hand. She looked around the flat, wondering if she were to ever see it again.

"This is goodbye, 22B1." She was purred as she left the flat.

Out on the street she tried to hill another cab, She couldn't of course. She swears the universe only loved Sherlock Holmes.

She Just decided to walk when, she heard a familiar deep voice from behind her.

"Going to Leave without saying goodbye?"

She closed her eyes. "I should have known." Opening her eyes she turned to know other than Sherlock Holmes, leaning against the metal fence, hands in his pockets Of his long black coat. "Sherlie, you know why I have to go."

"I do." He walked into the light. "But you don't have to."

"I'm sorry, but I do."

She turned and began to walk down the street heading for the bus stop. Sherlock followed, just as she knew he would.

"You can't keep running Vienna."

She stopped dead in her track's. Sherlock stopped as well. No one had called her by her real name in a long time, She should have known it was only a matter of time that Sherlock figured out her real name.

She turned to him. "And Who says that I can't, William? I've been for 16 years."

"But you have come the end of the Road."

"Why are you doin' this to me?" She asked, almost pleading. "You think this is easy? No, I'm so tired of this bullshit. I'm happy here, and I want to stay."

"Then why don't you?" Asked John walking around from the corner.

" 'Cause, Tom knows where I am. And he will do anythin' to get to me. And by now he knows how important you two are to me."

"Vienna, let us help you." John Pleated coming To stand next to Sherlock. "Come Inside, we can help you, you know we can."

Vie Smiled sadly. "Oh, I know you can, and It's so temptin', but I can't. I'm sorry. I love you, the both of you." She turned and started to walk away.

"You run and you are giving Tom all the power!" Sherlock Called after her, causing her to stop once again. "And that's what you hate most of all, being powerless."

"Damn you Sherlock Holmes for bein' so fuckin' observant!" She turned back to them. "Do you have any idea what my father will do to you guys?!"

"Father?" Asked John surprised, Sherlock however, didn't look Shocked at all, or if he was, he didn't show it.

She had said to much. She knew it would have happened, and at this point , she didn't care. "Do you think Tom just killed Mei? No, he made me watch as he told his men to do thin's to her that would give you nightmare's. He made my own brother take Mai Into another room, and shoot her! And all to teach me a lesson of respect," She was shouting now, but she was past the point of caring. "Tom, my father did all that to show me my place! So I ran! And Had been ever since! I can't, and won't go through that again! Not with you guys, not ever again!"

Sherlock took a step forward. "Ahh, you are going to go back home to end this game. That is what you are planning."

Why lie? "Yes, I am. I've had it. I can't do this anymore. I'm goin' back to home to give myself up, and then kill my no good mother fuckin' father once and for all!"

"But you could be killed." John exclaimed horrified.

"If I can take him with, so be it!"

"No, we won't-" John started, but was cut off by something behind her.

She turned, and her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. A tall man With blue eyes and blonde hair with three men behind him walked up to her. Vie didn't look away, she Instead stared right back without fear or hesitation.

"It's been a while, Vie." Said the man, his smooth southern absent reminding her of simple days. Back before all this.

"Yes, Victor, it has." She smiled sadly. "So, it's come to this has it?"

"It seems that way." Victor than looked at Sherlock and John. "Take her friends." He looked back to her. "Father wants to see you."

"I'm sure he does." She said coldly.

Victor than turned and walked to a waited black car. The first man, that had a body like a tree trunk took her by the fore arm, as the other two grabbed Sherlock and John by the arms and started to laed them to the car. Victor was already in the Passenger seat.

"Ivy, who is this guy?" Asked John.

"Victor, my Twin brother."

If this was a Cartoon, John's job would have dropped to the ground. Sherlock seemed to be surprised but he didn't show it, the only way she knew he was Because he looked at her pointeing, and he has nothing to say, which was not like him, his sharp eyes was warming over her, to see if she was lying. Something seemed to dawn on him.

"Brother's." Was all he said.

Vie Sherlock and John was made to Set and the back seat. Victor told the driver to go, and before they knew it they were on their way. Vie spented five minutes of the ride glaring holes in the back of her brother's head. It gave her some sort of satisfaction when her brother would shift Uncomfortably, he could feel her eyes on him, and she knew he could, that's why she was doing it. Her and her brother was close at one time, but things change, people fall a part, especially when that someone is trying to kill you.

"Where do you think we're going?" Asked John.

"No where good." Sherlock replyed calmly, looking out the window.

"Oh good, I thought it was going to be horrible."

In spite the situation, she couldn't help but smile. "You guys are actin' like that this ain't no big' thin'. " She remarked, deciding to stop trying to set her brother a flame by using her mind, she looked at Sherlock and John.

"We've been through Something similar to this a few times." Said John.

"Several." Sherlock corrected.

"Like Sherlock with that guy that was makin' people kill themselves. And let's Not forget, Sherlock's arch enemy, Moriarty." She reminded. "And so much more."

Sherlock looked away from the window to look at her. "You'd read John's blog."

She smiled. "Yes."

They road in silence for the rest of the drive. Vienna didn't know if this was the last time she was Going to breathe air, but if this is her last day to live, then she was glad to spend it with two amazing men and was proud to call friends.

...

Two hours later Vienna Sherlock and John was pulled out of the car, and was forced to walk into a building. It looked light the building was under destruction. But it was Late at night and no one would notice until the morning three unknown bodies, well, not true, everyone knew who Sherlock John and Vie were. It was more likely that their bodies will never be found. She knew how they're mind's work, she's seen it.

The three of them was forced to stand in the middle of the room on plastic. Her heart was thundering so loud, that she was surprise that the others didn't hear it. But she didn't show that she was Afraid, she wouldn't give the monster that called himself a human being the satisfaction.

The room was limited by a few work lights. It was cold. She knew this day would come. She won't bag for forgiveness or mercy, to hell with Tom to fucking hell.

Victor stood in front of her, and held up a cell phone. "Vienna, it's been awhile." Came her father's voice across the line.

She Laughed, the sound echoing off the empty walls around them. "Wow, I should have known that you're not a big enough of a man to come and do it yourself, guess you would biak a nail and mess up your Italian suit huh?"

"Vienna! You watch your mouth with me girl!"

"Or what? You'll hit me over the phone? That would be a neat trick! It won't be the first time that you've hit me or Vic!"

"Vienna, This is not why I wished to talk to you. I am offering you something that you would be foolish not to take."

She looked at her brother. "What Are you talking about?"

"I am Offering you a chance to redeem yourself."

She was Silent. She didn't like this, no, something wasn't right. Vienna didn't know Tom had in mind, And she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

"I will let everything Go like water under a bridge." Said Tom. "I'm Offering you a chance to come home."

Now she Completely understood. The abandoned building, the plastic on the floor, Sherlock John and Victor, Now it all made perfect sense. So, all this time he wasn't trying to kill her just scare her and wear her down, to make her desperate.

"At what cost, oh mighty one?" She asked.

"Prove yourself to me, then I'll let you come home. Kill Sherlock John and Victor."

She knew it. Vienna would Never do what this thing tells her. She never had, and she never will.

"You are A man that puts power over everything else." Said Sherlock. "Yes, I'm starting to understand you. And monster that you are."

"Sherlock," John Murmured beside her. "Maybe not Piss off the guy who's controlling the men that is holding guns at us."

Vienna was glad that her friends was with her.

"And Jump off a cliff if you tell me too?" She asked. "You can go fuck yourself! The answer is no! I will never do what you say, not now not ever! I would much prefer to run for the rest of my life instead of doin' what you tell me too! You can go to hell! And when you're there make sure you shake the devils hand!"

"Vienna, you have never known how to pick your fights!" Tom spat.

"No? Maybe not, but I know what kind of person you are, you are nothin' But a coward in a bully!"

"Vienna, you are my Daughter!"

"Don't you call me that you sick mother fucker! I stopped bein' your Daughter when you killed the woman I loved!" Vie Snapped. "I hate the fact that we share blood, and I hate you!"

"You Will show me some respect!" Shouted Tom.

"Like hell I will!" Vie Shouted back. "Do you feel like a man? Tell me, how do you sleep knowin' you are takin' people and sellin, them for money? How do you look at yourself?! You are not a man! You are nothin' but a waste of air!"

The three men may Vie John and Sherlock Crouch down on their knees in a line. She felt the cold middle of the gun against the back of her head. Vie's eyes Never leaving hurt brothers for a moment.

"Tom Walker!" She yelled. "You better kill me here and now, or you'll regret the day I was born."

"Is that a threat?" Asked Tom.

"No, It's a promise."

Vienna felt John take her hand, she held it back. Sherlock and John was going to be killed right along with her, she wished it was just her.

"This is cliche don't you think, Mr Walker?" Sherlock asked, making the room pause.

Sherlock and John glanced at one another. It went unnoticed. Vie knew right then that Sherlock had something in mind.

"Any time would be nice."

Then before she knew it the three men that were holding guns to their heads was shot and fell to the floor, the loud ringing echoed off the walls.

Sherlock Jumped to his feet, snatched the phone from Victor, and looked at his watch. "45 minutes and 12 seconds late."

"Sorry brother mine, But you seemed like you had everything under control."

John helped Vie to her feet, once on her feet, she turned to Mycraft, closely followed by Lestrade and other's. Vie looked at John, hoping that he had an explanation, but he would just as confused as she was.

"You?" She asked Sherlock.

"And him."

She turned to her brother. "Vic? You too?"

"It's no big deal."

"Oh, but it is." Then suddenly everything started to spin, she swayed on her feet, but luckly Sherlock caught her before she fell to the hard cold ground. John went Immediately into doctor mode.

"You opened your stitches." Said John.

"Oh shit, that's why it was hurtin'."

"Vienna." Said Victor As he was being arrested. "Sorry I shot you, and Mai."

She Leaned against Sherlock's shoulder. "Yeah, gonna have to talk about that."

The police officer that rested her brother led him away. Vie was still little overwhelmed about what just happened.

Lestrade came over. "You can see him when you are well."

"Right." She smiled. "Thank you."

Sherlock and John helped her walk to the ambulance truck that was waiting outside the building. Sherlock Apparently planted it out. The fresh air outside felt good on her face after being in the warm suffocating building.

"Here." Sherlock headed her the envelope, as John helped her lay on the girty.

She opened it, and took out the paper that was folded inside. Only one sentence was written on the paper.

'The sun is sitting behind the mountains.'

"It Means drop everything and run, am I right?" Sherlock said, as he climbed into the truck.

"Yes." She lay her head back against the pillow as the truck started to move, sirens blaring.

"From your brother?" Asked John.

Vie closed her eyes. She felt so tired. "Yes."

And then she slept into unconsciousness, with the two man she trusted most in this world on either side of her, not knowing what tomorrow may have in mind for them. Just knowing whatever happens she can take it, as long as she had Sherlock Holmes and doctor Watson by her side.

* * *

To be Continued.


End file.
